


The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by thegraytigress



Series: One Life [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bromance, Drama, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 91,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegraytigress/pseuds/thegraytigress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's life has settled down after finding his daughter three years ago. Everything is peaceful, and he's happy and content. It's all shattered, however, when Sarah is kidnapped and he's forced to face the grave danger that's been growing outside their world. And getting her back will revisit fears he thought were long put to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** _The Avengers_ is the property of Walt Disney Studios, Paramount Studios, and Marvel Studios. _Marvel's Agents of SHIELD_ is the property of ABC, Walt Disney Studios, and Marvel Studios. This work was created purely for enjoyment. No money was made, and no infringement was intended.
> 
>  **RATING:** T (for language, violence)
> 
>  **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hi, everyone! So here we are with the sequel to "The Road Not Taken" and the second story in a series I'm calling _One Life_. It will be three parts total. This takes place not quite three years after the events in "The Road Not Taken" and picks up where that story left off. I highly recommend you read "The Road Not Taken" before this; it will probably make sense without it, but I can't guarantee that.
> 
> This is seriously canon divergent. The events of _Iron Man 3_ and _Thor: The Dark World_ have happened, but not _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_. No slash and no relationships aside from Tony/Pepper. There will be some mention/appearance of _Agents of SHIELD_ characters and plotlines in this, but I think you can mostly follow along without having seen the show. Because this is AU, all bets are off concerning the evilness of certain _Agents of SHIELD_ characters :-). Tons of bromance and family bonding, particularly between Steve and Tony but between all the Avengers.
> 
> This first chapter is pure, unadulterated fluff (it is possible! I think I can write fluff! :-)). Don't worry – this story does have a plot. I promise. Enjoy!

The alarm clock went off, but it really wasn’t necessary.  Steve was already awake.  Not only was the bright summer sunlight streaming through the blinds of his bedroom, but he could hear the door creak open.  He sighed slowly, contentedly, nuzzling his face deeper into his pillow and keeping his eyes shut.  Feet were softly padding closer.  Little feet.  Faster and faster as they own lost any semblance of being tentative or sneaky.  Steve smiled, maintaining the ruse of sleeping, until he felt the duvet being pulled to the left as a small body climbed up onto his bed and then wriggled its way on top of his hip.  “Daddy,” came a whisper against his cheek.  Hair tickled his nose.  The voice got louder and more persistent.  “Daddy?  Daddy.  Daddy!”

“What,” he grumbled with fake irritation.

“Wake up.”

“Why.”

“Wake _up_.”  Talk about a whine.  Steve managed to be as still as a log as he was bounced into the bed.  “Wake up.  Wake up.  Daddy.  Daddy.”  It went on and on, a mixture of whines and pleas and excited commands.  Finally, Steve made a show of cracking open his eyes and rolled over with a stretch.

Sarah stared down at him, her little hands planted on the broad expanse of his chest and her legs across his stomach.  Her eyes were so brightly blue, beautiful, and her hair was a mussed mess of loose blond curls.  She wore Minnie Mouse pajamas, pink and red, and she was clutching her little stuffed, brown puppy that Natasha had brought her back from Russia two years ago.  It was so ragged and worn that Nat had tried to replace it (they all had, in fact) a few times, but Sarah refused.  Her favorite snuggie, and she took it with her everywhere.  Steve kept thinking he should try to wean her off of it, get her attention on something else, but he didn’t really have the heart.  Besides, she was still a baby.  Only three.  Barely.  Today she _turned_ three.

He faked ignorance, yawning and putting on an act.  He’d never been good at lying, but parenthood was teaching him all sorts of new skills.  “Okay, I’m up.  What’s the matter?”

She flopped down on him.  It wasn’t much of anything, not with all serum enhanced muscle and bone beneath her, but he gave an “oomf” and acted like she’d landed on him with the weight of the world.  “Time to get up,” she said again.  “Time to get up, Daddy!”

“Why’s that?”

“Daddy,” Sarah whispered, leaning down over him like she had the biggest secret in the history of secrets to tell him.  “It’s my birthday.”

“No,” he said with mock surprise.  “No, it’s not.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Can’t be.  You can’t be three.  Yesterday you were only two.”

She giggled even though she really had no concept of that.  Today was just another day to her, only it had been hyped up continually for the last week by Tony.  Even last night while Tony had read her a story goodnight, he’d been constantly going on about her birthday, about how exciting and special it would be, about presents and fun things.  Steve had been sorely tempted to tell Tony to tone it down, but he hadn’t.  All of the Avengers adored Sarah, but Tony even more so.  Ever since she’d inexplicably and unexpectedly come into their lives almost three years ago, Tony had become attached to her in ways Steve had never fathomed.  He played with her.  Took her places.  Let her bring her toys into his workshop (a sacred place few dared tread, to be honest).  Played with her.  Showered her with gifts and clothes and anything she could possibly want.  Part of Steve suspected that Tony’s attachment was due to Pepper losing their own baby some years ago.  Tony and Pepper had married last year (finally), but there’d been no talk of children since then (at least, not that Tony had mentioned, and Tony wasn’t terribly proficient at keeping secrets).  Steve was starting to wonder if Tony wasn’t living his own dream of fatherhood vicariously through Steve, loving and treasuring Sarah without necessarily embracing (or enduring) the true implications of permanently becoming a parent himself.

In fact, in one way or another, all of the team was doing that.  Thor, loud and rambunctious with her as they wrestled, him with so much careful gentleness despite his huge stature (and the sight of the Prince of Asgard having a tea party with a two year old…  Well, it was blackmail material, as Tony put it).  Clint, sitting for hours through yet another Disney Princess movie and watching enthralled as Sarah babbled on his lap.  Bruce, taking the time no matter how busy he was to patiently answer Sarah’s endless (and sometimes silly) questions with terms she could understand.  Pepper, coming by every morning she could to do Sarah’s hair for her (that was one thing Steve couldn’t seem to manage no matter how often he tried – apparently his hands could add the small, intricate details to a sketch but were incapable of getting his daughter’s hair into a decent braid or pony tail if his life depended on it).  Even Natasha, who’d had the hardest time adjusting to this change.  Steve had caught her many times sitting with Sarah at one of the Tower’s innumerable communal tables, sharing ice cream and coloring.  Sarah was blessed, truly and deeply, to have this family.

And Steve was, too.  One of his worst fears when Sarah had burst into his life at three weeks old was that he’d face parenthood alone.  And that he’d be forced to give up being Captain America and the leader of the Avengers, both for practical reasons and because it was too dangerous.  The latter fear was never lessened or appeased; he still worried _every time_ he went out on a mission or to face the latest threat against the world that something would happen to him.  He hadn’t been hurt much beyond bruises and scrapes since that horrible mission at Thanksgiving right after bringing Sarah home, but that dark period haunted him still.  She’d only been an infant then.  Now she was a toddler, a little girl, and she’d be devastated if something like that happened again.  It was a risk he unhappily took, only driven by the fact that this was the decision he’d made.  He still had a duty to the world and to the team.  And he was only comforted by the fact that if, God forbid, something should ever happen to him, Sarah would be well taken care of and well loved.  He’d written a will almost immediately after officially declaring her paternity and named Tony and Pepper as her legal guardians.  And he (and she) had the rest of the team, too.  They’d proven countless times again and again that he wasn’t going through anything alone, that the fear of being a single father and facing these tough choices without support was completely unfounded.  Maybe it had been a tad awkward and uncertain in the beginning, but now it was as if Sarah had always been there, always been a part of their extraordinary group.  It was like Sarah had always been a part of their family, was what _made_ them a family in some respects, as weird as that was.

Regardless, Tony had practically been vibrating with excitement for her birthday party, and when Tony vibrated with excitement, it was never a good thing.  Last year’s had been ridiculous.  Tony had transformed an entire top floor of the Tower into a circus, complete with clowns, vendors, acrobats, and even some animals (what a mess that had been, and the smell had lingered for weeks).  The pile of gifts had literally been a pile, stacked tall and wide.  Honestly, Steve wasn’t a fan of so much stuff and so much extravagance.  He’d grown up during the Great Depression.  He and his mother had been very poor, at times almost destitute, so getting a gift _at all_ on his birthday had been an event.  He wanted to instill appreciation and gratitude for what she had into Sarah, and that was hard to do when she had the world’s richest man as her self-appointed benefactor.  Still, he supposed that if worrying about Tony spoiling her a little (alright, _a lot_ ) was among his chief concerns, life was pretty good.

And it was.  Although Sarah had been created from his DNA to reproduce the super soldier serum, she didn’t have it.  Bruce had discovered that shortly after SHIELD had rescued her from the mysterious lab where she’d been born, and it hadn’t changed over the last few years.  Bruce reran the genetic analysis every six months, but the results were always the same: even though Sarah shared a significant portion of Steve’s genes, she didn’t seem to be producing the serum.  She hadn’t inherited it.  More than that, though, she hadn’t inherited any of the many problems he’d had before the serum, at least not so far.  No asthma.  No perpetual anemia.  No weakened immune system.  No bad heart or frail body.  She was completely healthy, a vibrant, high-energy little girl.  He counted his blessings.  He counted them every day.

“Dad.  Daddy.”

That brought him out of his thoughts.  “What, sweet pea?”

“Unca Tony’s made me a party.”  She smiled.  “Time to go.”

He laughed.  “Not yet.  Later.  Here.  Wanna come in?”  He lifted the quilt and duvet so she could crawl over him and shimmy underneath.  He settled them around them both before squeezing her to his chest.  He planted a kiss on her head, stroking her messy hair back.  “Happy birthday, baby girl.”

She giggled with excitement and squirmed.  These were some of his favorite times with her, when it was just the two of them snuggling in his bed.  They were both early risers in a Tower full of night owls and people who worked odd hours, so getting up together to greet the sun was something they shared with just each other.  It was happening more and more ever since he moved her out of her crib a few months ago.  The bed she had was nice, of course, but every morning she invariably found her way in with him (sometimes it was during the night, to be honest, and when he woke up to find her curled into a ball on his arm or sprawled on his chest, he didn’t really have the heart to move her).  They lay quietly for a moment, Steve absently brushing his hand over her hair and thinking.  “Wanna know what I want for my birthday?” she asked.  “It’s secret.”

He grimaced.  He knew what she wanted.  And it wasn’t a secret.  “What’s that?” he asked, praying she’d changed her mind.

Nope.  Clint kept telling him she was as stubborn as he was, and what was worse, she was too cute to turn down.  “Puppy!”

This had been all she’d talked about for weeks.  Sarah was pretty advanced for her age; she’d potty trained really easily, her gross and fine motor skills were outstanding, she was vocal and articulate, and her ability to socialize was surprising despite the fact she lived a fairly ( _extremely_ ) sheltered life.  So she’d already learned how to manipulate people.  Steve took her to Bryant Park and other playgrounds around the city often (even though Tony had practically built her a private, indoor playground next to the gym in the basement of Stark Tower complete with swings, slides, and a jungle gym).  Earlier that summer she’d seen a humane society event loaded with dogs up for adoption.  Since then, it had been nothing but continually asking for a pet.  She had worked over each of them in turn after Steve had initially said no, looking for an ally in her argument (as if a child could do such a thing, but she certainly seemed intent on trying).  Apparently, this was the one thing under the sun Tony wouldn’t get her.  He didn’t want any animals permanently in the Tower.  For a ludicrous circus-themed birthday party?  Yes.  However, he didn’t want to deal with the mess, the hair, the responsibility.  It was enough that they had a kid to worry about when the call to assemble came in; the last thing they needed was to find a dog-sitter as well.  Steve had agreed whole-heartedly.  He’d settled on a goldfish, which he had taken her to a pet store to get a few weeks ago in the hopes that would curtail the whining and begging.  It hadn’t.  Like Clint said, she was stubborn.  And persistent.

He smiled his best placating smile.  It was too hard to say no to her on her birthday.  “We’ll see, okay?”  He prayed the tons of other gifts that she was undoubtedly getting would make her forget about the dog.  Sarah was the world’s sweetest thing, but she could throw a temper tantrum like nothing else.  That was definitely one part of parenting a toddler Steve could do without.  “I’m sure there are going to be a lot of fun things to do, and a lot of presents, so don’t get upset if a dog isn’t among them, alright?  Be a big girl.”

She turned to him and nodded vigorously.  “Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay.”  That was as much of a promise as she was capable of giving.  They didn’t move for a little while longer, Steve holding her and letting his mind wander, until she got squirmy and impatient.  He smiled, sitting up gingerly and setting her on his lap.  “Should we do this thing?”

“Yeah!” she screamed loud enough to probably wake everyone else (unlikely, but even still).  She hopped down and was out of his bedroom before he even swung his legs out of bed.  Curling his toes in the carpet, he stood and stretched and followed her out into her bedroom.  So much of the nursery furniture had been replaced with toys and a dresser, desk, and other pieces for an older child’s room.  Gone as well were the decorations appropriate for a baby.  Adorning the pink walls now were pictures of horses and flowers and princesses.  Sarah loved princesses.  Steve had never even fathomed such an array of glittering gowns and tiaras existed.  According to Tony, it was a marketing monster aimed at little girls, and a very successful one.  Steve went with her to her dresser, picked out a set of shorts and a purple cotton top.  He helped her dress, finishing with her socks and shoes.  Then she followed him back into the master bedroom and settled down on the floor outside the bathroom with some of her dolls while he showered and got himself ready for the day.  Teeth brushed, hair combed (Steve did the best she could to at least pull it back from her face), and looking pretty good (if he did think so himself), the two of them headed down to the common floor kitchen.

Steve held Sarah’s hand as JARVIS bid them a cheerful good morning after the elevator deposited them at their destination.  She pulled away from him the minute the kitchen came in sight, running down the hallway and bursting inside.  Steve followed leisurely, hearing a familiar voice say, “There she is!  Mornin’, birthday girl!”

As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Steve spotted Clint lifting Sarah onto his lap.  “Hey,” he greeted, brow furrowing in confusion as he headed toward the cupboards.  “What are you doing here?  I thought you and Nat weren’t going to be back until Monday.”

Clint kissed Sarah’s head and adjusted her on his lap.  “And miss the big third birthday?  No chance,” he said, smiling broadly and bouncing her as she laughed.

Steve rolled his eyes a little.  “Somehow I doubt that was a good enough reason for Fury.”

“You kidding?  He’s jealous he didn’t get an invitation.”

Steve shook his head, chuckling.  “What do you want for breakfast, Sarah?”

“Pancakes,” Clint quickly answered.  “Don’t ya, darling?”

“Pancakes!  Pancakes!”

Steve fake glared at Clint.  Mostly fake.  “I’m not feeding you,” he said, pulling open the stainless steel refrigerator and grabbing eggs, milk, and butter.

“Sarah, tell your father that it’s not nice to deny us pancakes,” Clint reprimanded lightly.

“Daddy, not nice to deny us pancakes,” Sarah said, significantly stumbling over her words.

“See, Cap?  Your daughter wants pancakes for her birthday.  You gonna turn her down?  _Look_ at this face.”  Clint leaned close to Sarah’s ear and whispered (not too quietly), “Stick your lower lip out.”

The two of them looked positively pathetic, Sarah with her baby cheeks and lower lip pouting, and Clint looking completely ridiculous doing the same.  “You don’t understand,” Steve said with an annoyed sigh.  He started gathering what he needed: mixing bowls, spoons, flour, sugar, and a few other things.  He’d made breakfast for the group so many times over the last few years that he had it memorized.  He was the only one of them who made any effort to cook, and it was (overly) enthusiastically appreciated.  “I start making this, and then someone else comes and I’m committed to another batch.  And then another someone and another batch.  And another.  And then Thor wakes up, and I have to feed _him_.  It’s like a breakfast beacon, drawing everyone in, until I’ve been cooking for an hour and haven’t had a bite myself.”

“You’re all about taking a hit for the team,” Clint replied with a sneaky grin on his face.  “Hey, it’s not my fault your pancakes are so awesome.  Be a lousier cook if you don’t like doing it.”

Steve sighed.  He didn’t know if it was a side-effect of fatherhood in general or if he was just getting soft.  “What do you want in them?” he said, long-suffering.

“Chocolate chips,” was Clint’s immediate response.

“Blueberries!” Sarah shouted, slurring her “r”’s into “w”’s enough that Steve was forced to smile.  He went back to the fridge to get the fruit.

Clint turned back to Sarah where she was bouncing herself on his knee.  “So tell me about your birthday party, kiddo.  I want to know all about Uncle Tony’s plans.”

Sarah started babbling about her birthday.  It was mostly nonsensical, a random train of thought that drifted haphazardly from one topic to the next.  She loved to talk.  Steve didn’t know where she got that from because Steve’s mother had always told him that he’d been a quiet child, serious and soft-spoken.  It was probably something she’d learned from Tony and his unceasing stream of consciousness.  If motor-mouthing were an Olympic Sport, Tony Stark would be hands-down a gold medalist.  Sarah went on and on.  Something about bows and balloons and cake.  And then a lot of somethings about puppies.  Steve grimaced again as he went about making the pancake batter.  Clint turned to him.  “She’s not serious, right?  Tony didn’t–”

A sharp, warning glance from Steve silenced the archer before he could finish.  He gave a small shake of his head that simultaneously said _no_ and _don’t bring it up._   He grabbed a banana, sliced that up, and poured a cup of milk for Sarah.  “Off Clint, honey,” he ordered, coming over, picking her up, and setting her in her own chair.  He gave her the sippy cup full of milk and the plate of fruit.  “You want coffee?”

“Sure.”

“You coulda made some, you know.  And do not even try to tell me it tastes better when I make it.”

“What?  It does.”  Clint’s level of snark (and laziness) was probably only second to Tony’s.  The two of them were more similar than either of them seemed to realize or care to admit, although Clint was more reserved and furtive.  Clint hid his issues with quiet and Tony did it with noise, but they were both fundamentally loyal, good guys with sharp wits, a love of teasing, and dark pasts.  Over the last couple of years, Clint had really opened up more, abandoning many of his tendencies to be a loner in favor of friendship and camaraderie.  Steve knew there were things about Clint (and about Natasha) that he’d probably never know, things the two SHIELD agents and assassins would never tell him.  Even still, he’d never seen Clint so at ease as he had been recently.

Steve went about brewing a pot.  Then he started making the pancakes.  “So when did you get back?”

“Last night.”  Sarah’s sippy cup hit the floor with a thud, and Clint was leaning over dutifully to pick it up.

Steve blinked in surprise.  “What are you doing up then?”

“Eh.  Jet lag is best defeated by just powering through it.”

“I always thought you were crazy.”

“Pot calling kettle there, Cap.”

The sound of coffee percolating filled the kitchen, followed by the rich aroma of whatever expensive blend of grounds Pepper had selected.  After flipping the pancakes, Steve fished around for another skillet and then went back to the fridge to see if there was bacon.  There was, of course, and tons of other meat.  He automatically grabbed a bunch of things and more eggs.  “What really happened?”

“What, on our mission?”

“Yeah.”  Steve didn’t run missions for SHIELD much anymore.  Shortly after Sarah had come into his life, he’d contacted the nurse aboard the helicarrier who had helped with her during those frightening first hours.  Rebecca had been such a godsend then, so sweet and gentle, and she’d been more than willing to quit her position within SHIELD to act as Sarah’s nanny (or babysitter, as she preferred, because “nanny” made her feel way too old).  Of course, Tony throwing a ridiculous salary _and_ her own suite of rooms in the Tower at her had certainly helped sweeten the deal.  She still maintained a job at one of the area hospitals, but she remained ready on a moment’s notice to take Sarah when the call came in for the Avengers to assemble or if Steve was required for a SHIELD operation or meeting.  Even still, Steve didn’t want to spend so much time away from Sarah, not if he could avoid it, so he rarely commanded the STRIKE Team as he used to, and he even more rarely joined Clint and Natasha on their missions unless his expertise was really required or the situation was dangerous enough to demand the efforts of Captain America.  He did an awful lot of consulting and oversaw things from SHIELD HQ in Times Square.  That didn’t always sit well with him; he hated hanging back, directing from safety while others risked their lives.  It was one of the things that had driven him to attempt to join the army so many times back during World War II, this dislike of his own helplessness when others were fighting and sacrificing so much.  But that was another tough choice he’d had to make.

Given he was so disconnected sometimes, he liked to stay as apprised as possible of the goings-on within SHIELD.  Being out of the loop was almost as hard as being unable to really participate as much as he once had and would like to.  Clint and Natasha knew that and kept him informed.  Steve poured a cup of coffee for himself and for Clint before bringing the archer his mug.  “Thanks,” Clint said.  “Truth be told, there isn’t much to tell.”  Black Widow and Hawkeye had been sent to the Far East to investigate some sort of hint of the radical science group Advanced Idea Mechanics (or AIM, as they liked to be called) resurfacing out there.  This was one of the numerous rumors SHIELD intel had encountered over the last couple of months.  A lab popping up here.  Another there.  They shut down and moved out with amazing alacrity before SHIELD could get its hands on whatever it was AIM was possibly attempting to do.  After Tony took down Aldrich Killian, AIM had splintered into smaller factions.  It wasn’t clear if these little labs were part of some larger plot or were merely coincidental resurgences.  None of them alone seemed like much of a threat, but Director Fury wasn’t interested in letting any of them band together.

“Abandoned, just the others?” Steve asked, going back to the kitchen.

“Yeah.  Hence why we are back early.”  There might have been more information, but it was an unspoken rule around the Tower that if they talked shop around Sarah, it was without swearing or any violent or disturbing details.  They were the Avengers and SHIELD agents and warriors, but they all did their absolute best to keep that away from the baby.  Clint sipped his coffee and set it down quickly, like he was remembering something.  “Oh.  Speaking of early, this means I get to give you your first present.”

Sarah squealed in joy.  “Present!”

“Yep.  Uncle Clint is awesome like that.”  Clint reached inside his plaid over shirt, pulling something from the pocket underneath it.  It was long, about six inches, and flat.  It looked like…

“Please tell me you did not buy my daughter a knife for her third birthday,” Steve flatly said.

“Really, Cap?  As cool as that would be, no.”  The sheath was black, covered in golden swirls that made an intricate design.  Steve stepped closer, confused, as Clint pulled the end of the sheath.  Out came an equally long stick.  At least it seemed like a stick until Clint unfolded it.  Sarah’s eyes lit up.  It was a silk fan, a very pretty one filled with flowers and butterflies.  “Found this in Tokyo when we were there.  Pretty neat, huh?  Careful.”  He handed it to Sarah.  It was huge for her small hand, so he helped her hold it.  “Now you can be just like Mulan.”

Sarah beamed.  She tried waving it, but it was a little much for her to handle.  Still, she was extremely excited, especially when Clint related it to a princess.  “That’s beautiful.  What do you say, baby girl?” Steve called from the kitchen.

“Thanks, Unca Clint,” she chirped, hopping down from her seat to throw herself on Clint’s leg.

He laughed, petting her hair a moment.  “You’re welcome, honey.  Here.  Let’s put it away for now so it doesn’t get all sticky.”  If someone had asked Steve a year ago if he’d ever see the day where Clint Barton, hardened killer and expert marksman, would be helping a three year old girl put her new Japanese fan away and wiping the banana from her face, he would have said that was crazy.  But that was what life was like now.  Sarah brought out sides of them all that they never knew existed.

“Mornin’,” came a voice from the hallway.  Bruce strolled into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a red Oxford with the sleeves rolled up.  He had a paper under one arm and his StarkPad in the other hand.  “Thought I smelled breakfast.”

“Unca Bruce!  Lookit!”  Sarah was down off her chair again, rushing over excitedly to demonstrate her new gift and loudly proclaiming that she was a princess just like Mulan because Uncle Clint said so. 

“Wow, sweetie,” Bruce said with enthusiasm.  “That’s great.”

“Here, Sarah,” Steve called.  He set a plate of steaming pancakes down on the table along with some butter and syrup.  He started to put some on a plastic plate for Sarah, but Clint took over.  He went back to make another batch and tend to his other pans while Clint cut up the pancakes into small pieces and Bruce drizzled them with syrup.  She sat down again and started eating while the two Avengers gathered their own meal.  Steve returned with a plate of eggs and bacon.

“Gonna be a hot week,” Bruce commented, reading the weather in the paper.  “When is the party?  Hopefully before it really starts cooking outside.”  He stood from his own plate to get himself a cup of coffee.

Steve shrugged as he flipped the next round of pancakes.  “No idea.  You’re asking the wrong person.”

Bruce winced.  “And how overboard did he go?”

“Same answer.”

“Can’t be worse than last year’s,” Clint remarked around half a mouthful of eggs.  He reached over automatically and wiped syrup from Sarah’s cheek with his napkin.  “If I never see a clown again, it will be too soon.”  There was a shudder there.  A really small one.  Restrained and subtle, but a shudder all the same.

“There’s actually a phobia for clowns, you know.  Coulrophobia,” Bruce offered up, returning to his seat.  “Although I don’t think it’s scientifically accepted.”

Clint huffed.  “I didn’t say I was afraid of them.”

“Right.”  Bruce smiled a knowing smile.  As quiet and mild-mannered as he was, he was no slouch in the teasing department himself.  He was serious, ever calm and in control because of his condition, so when a sneaky comment came out of him, it was all that much more effective and surprising because one wouldn’t expect it of him.  “And I thought you were in the circus for a while when you were a kid.”

“I was.  Why do you think I don’t like clowns?  Try sleeping around that.  This one dude – Hey, Nat.”

Unlike Clint, Natasha looked extremely jet-lagged as she walked into the kitchen.  She was stumbling just a little, wrapped up in a robe with her hair mussed.  She was bleary-eyed, half asleep really.  It was a rare moment to see the perpetually calm and composed Black Widow like this, unguarded and almost vulnerable.  Almost.  When she saddled Clint with a silencing glare, Steve couldn’t help but wonder how many weapons she had hidden under all that white terrycloth.  She plodded on heavy feet to the fridge, reached inside, and grabbed a water bottle.  “Can’t deal with any of you right now,” she grumbled, and Steve’s offer of a plate of pancakes died in his throat.  She went back out to the table and leaned down over Sarah.  “Except for you.  Happy birthday, _malyutka_.”  She planted a kiss on Sarah’s head.  “Wake me when it’s party time.”

Then she was gone, almost colliding with Tony on the way out as he came in.  “Well, good morning to you–”

“Stuff it, Stark.”

Tony turned to watch her go.  “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the mission.  And you made me breakfast!  Awesome.”

Steve rolled his eyes, giving Tony the pancakes right off the griddle.  He dumped the latest batch of eggs and breakfast meat with it.  Tony smiled cheekily.  He was dressed in an expensive blazer, gray with a blue shirt underneath, and an equally expensive set of trousers.  He strolled to the table, making a big show out of looking for Sarah.  “Guys, I don’t see the birthday girl.  Where is she?”  He glanced around the area, setting his plate down practically on top of Sarah’s.  “You see her, feathers?”

“Nope.  She was here a minute ago…”

“What about you, Doctor Banner?  Any sign of the birthday girl?”

Bruce just smiled and shook his head at his friend’s antics.

“Unca Tony!  Unca Tonee!  I’m right here!”

Tony kept up his farce, making to sit right on top of Sarah.  “Well, if this seat’s empty, I guess I’ll just park my butt right–”

Sarah squealed loud enough that Steve winced.  “No, Unca Tony!  You’re sitting on me!”

Tony put on a pretty good show.  He always did.  He looked appropriately shocked and stopped fake-crushing her.  “Oh.  _There_ you are.  My bad.  I thought you weren’t here.”  Lord, he laid it on thick for Sarah.  “Whew, that was a close one.”

“Yeah, the thought of having your butt in anyone’s face is downright terrifying,” Clint quipped, pushing his empty plate away.  “Come here, honey.  Let the lord of the manor have your seat.”

Steve was about to open his mouth to protest Sarah eating on Clint’s lap, but before he could he felt a hand brush over his back.  “Hi, Steve.”  Pepper smiled brightly at him.  Like Tony, she was dressed nicely in a cream pencil skirt and rose-colored silk blouse.  Her auburn hair was done up in a smooth bun.  She looked at the array of things sizzling and snapping on the stove and the pancakes Steve was about to carry out to the table in droves.  “Nice of you to cook for everyone.  Who volunteered you?”

“You can thank Clint for that,” Steve said.  “And you look nice.”

“Thank you.  Sweet of you to notice.”  She smiled, maybe even blushing a little.  Her engagement and wedding rings caught the lights in the kitchen as she reached into the cupboard for a coffee mug.  “We have an interview this morning with _Forbes_.  This was the only time that worked between their schedule and ours.  So I hope you don’t us mind not being around for a while.  I think Tony set everything up for three this afternoon.”

“Why would I mind?”  He glanced out at the table where Sarah was laughing as Tony continued on in his antics.  “I’m sure whatever over-the-top thing he has planned will more than make up for it.  Not that he needs to, you know.  Make up for anything.  Ever.”

Pepper laughed lightly.  She, too, had been such a godsend when Sarah had come into Steve’s life.  Her support, from taking the baby off his hands so he could sleep to buying everything (and more) that they needed to handling the PR fiasco when Steve finally announced to the world that he had a daughter…  He didn’t know what he would have done without her.  Tony was very lucky to have such a smart, confident, capable, and beautiful woman in his life.

She was watching her husband and the rest of the Avengers with Sarah, too.  Her eyes glazed.  “Can’t believe she’s three.”

“Me neither.”

She smiled fondly, perhaps a bit sadly.  “Seems like yesterday I was rocking her to sleep.”

It really did.  “Three is still little,” Steve reminded with half a grin that he hoped hid the fact he was lamenting the same things.

“It’s not like she’s going off to college,” Pepper agreed.  “Yet.”  That was such a mundane thing to be worrying about.  Honestly, Steve couldn’t think one day ahead sometimes, let alone years.  Here and now, everything seemed so safe, so simple and peaceful.  But they were superheroes.  Nothing was that predictable.  The call could come in at any time for them to fight.  This moment of peace could so easily shatter.  It made it difficult to plan, to think about the future.

Pepper smiled at him again before getting her coffee and going to the table.  Steve quickly finished the last round of pancakes, or what _would_ have been the last round, only–

“Good morning, my friends!  Alas, I knew my nose had not deceived me.”  Thor’s entrance was always a grand affair.  He walked inside, clad in shorts and a blue t-shirt that still, after these last years of living on Midgard, looked pretty silly on him.  He carried himself proudly at all times, regal and very aware of exactly who he was and what that meant.  Steve glanced over to see Sarah jump off Clint’s lap and run over to the mighty Asgardian, and he swooped her up with one arm like she was weightless.  To him, and to Steve as well, she was.  “And good morning to you, little one.  Today is the day we commemorate your birth!  Are you excited?”

“Uh-huh,” Sarah said.  She had a thing for Thor’s beard, and her sticky hands immediately went to rub his cheeks.  He didn’t mind, tucking her roughly under one arm to her shrieking amusement and jostling her on his way to the table.  Sarah had always had a special place in Thor’s heart.  Of all the Avengers, he was the one who had accepted her presence immediately and without any reservations.  It had always been simple to him: Sarah was Steve’s daughter, no matter how she’d come into the world.  He’d been the most willing to get his hands dirty, literally and figuratively, and he’d learned how to take care of a baby right alongside Steve.  Steve hadn’t thought about it much at the time, but he’d been so grateful for Thor’s steadfastness.  Even now, very little bothered him.

Thor reached for the carafe of orange juice that Pepper had brought.  The once empty table was now packed with breakfast stuffs.  Thor appraised the mostly demolished plates of pancakes, eggs, and meat.  “Steve, if it is not too much trouble, would you mind–”

“Already done,” Steve answered, dropping the teeming, steaming plate (the one he’d made for himself) in front of Thor.

“I’ll take some more, if you’re making,” Tony said, holding Steve his empty dish.

Steve deadpanned, offering Tony a glare that read _are you kidding_ before taking the plate and turning back to the kitchen.  He looked over at Sarah and saw her perched on Thor’s lap now.  The two of them looked ridiculous with their mussed blond hair.  She was perfectly content to be sitting among Earth’s mightiest heroes as they discussed current events and the upcoming party and argued the merits of chocolate syrup versus maple syrup on pancakes.  She had her thumb in her mouth; that was another habit of which Steve hadn’t been able to break her.  Thor did nothing to dissuade her as he heartily shoveled in his breakfast.  “Where is Natasha this fine morning?”

“Sleeping,” Clint said, finishing off his coffee.  “Wouldn’t go near that with ten-foot pole.”

“What does the size of the pole matter?  And why would I need one?” Thor asked.

Bruce sighed.  “It means–”

“He knows what it means,” Tony said, rolling his eyes at Bruce.  “Seriously, Banner?  You are the world’s most gullible.”  He shook his head, turning to Thor.  “And you are the world’s most uncreative.  Your feigning ignorance at our Midgardian colloquialisms stopped being entertaining months ago.”

“I am not of this world, so your comparison is without any basis.  And furthermore, I find that very odd,” Thor said with a heck of a smug, self-satisfied smile, “because to me it’s still immensely entertaining.”

“Of course it is.”

“Sarah, honey,” Pepper said as she stood behind Tony.  “Did daddy do your hair this morning?”  She nodded.  Pepper smiled knowingly.  “Come on.  I have time to fix it.”

Steve couldn’t help but be a little hurt (and a little ashamed – just a little).  “What’s the matter with it?”

“Aside from the fact that the ponytail is off center, the left side is coming down, and there’s syrup behind her ear–”  Steve grimaced.  “–nothing.”  Pepper grinned disarmingly and offered Sarah her hand.  “Let’s go.”

“What, you can’t expect Cap to be able to manage that,” Tony said, rising to get himself a cup of coffee.  He smacked Steve soundly on the shoulder as he passed.  “That’s why we have women.  And stylists.”

“A stylist?  For a toddler?” Clint asked.

Tony was surprised at his surprise.  “What’s so weird about that?  I had one when I was a kid.”  Clint barked out a laugh.  “What?  You think that’s funny?”

“I think it’s _hilarious_.”

The group continued to joke about that, the four men trading light-hearted jabs and quips, but Steve stopped listening.  This wasn’t the first time someone had made an off-hand comment that had made him question what he was doing.  His doubt wasn’t so much grounded in his own abilities as a father anymore but in the worry that what Sarah really needed was a mother.  Rebecca never tried to take on that role, as sweet and caring she was.  She always operated with a layer of detachment, keeping it clear this was her job rather than her place.  And Natasha was… well…  Natasha was Natasha.  She was wonderful, but she, too, kept her distance, maintained certain boundaries whether from her own discomfort or from some misplaced guilt that she wasn’t pure enough to be around an innocent child.  Pepper was the closest thing Sarah had to a maternal figure, but even Pepper wasn’t enough of a presence to replace a real mother.  Steve didn’t know anything about Sarah’s mother (both who had donated the egg to the experiment that had created her and who had given birth to her, if those weren’t the same woman).  Tony and Bruce had spent some time investigating the files from the lab in China where Sarah had been found back at that time, but they’d never discovered anything.  And, in the years since then, Steve had stopped wondering for the most part.  Part of him wasn’t sure he even wanted to know, though another part of him feared he was doing Sarah a disservice by not trying to find out.  It didn’t seem like they would ever learn anything more at any rate, but that hadn’t appeased his worry that Sarah needed a mother, if not a biological one then someone to fill that place in her life emotionally.

It was always little things like this that made this niggling thought trouble him.  Sarah needed someone to do her hair.  To take her shopping when she got older.  To sing to her at night.  To hold her when she fell or listen to her chat about boys or help her pick out her clothes.  He could _do_ those things, of course, but maybe it wasn’t the same.  She was young now, so she didn’t know what she was missing.  He knew single-parent families were common in this century; plenty of men and women managed just fine by themselves.  But he’d grown up without a father.  He knew how strenuous that had been on his mother, how desperately she’d wanted to find a suitable replacement and how hard she tried to fill both roles herself.  And he knew how difficult that had been for him, too, that hollow emptiness that never quite went away.  Maybe he was overreacting; he was doing a good job, and he knew it.  Still, call him old-fashioned (and almost everyone did) but he put stock in the fact that two parents were better than one.

“You’re burning my breakfast, Capsicle,” Tony reprimanded, drawing Steve from his thoughts.  Steve flushed, annoyed and embarrassed at once, and paid attention to the meal he was currently ruining.  He could feel Tony’s eyes on him, questioning, a tad worried.  “Something wrong?”

“Nah,” Steve replied, easily banishing his worries.  “So where is this party this afternoon?”

Tony smiled cheekily.  Steve knew that grin too well.  It was his genius grin, the one he wore whenever he was up to something that would end in disaster.  Whether it was new equipment he was field-testing or tinkering with something he was fairly certain would blow up in his face or hatching together some sort of semi-nefarious plot, it was always preceded by that smile.  Steve felt his stomach clench in just a bit of dismay.  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“No, it’s for me to know right now.  She is my daughter, you know.  Shouldn’t I have even a _little_ say in the–”

“Nope.”

Steve gave a weak scowl as he loaded up Tony’s plate and his own with the remainder of breakfast.  “If I’d known you were gonna be this… _crazy_ about it, I woulda never agreed to let you handle it.  I seem to recall you promising a ‘little get together’ for her first birthday, and there were fireworks, Tony.  _Fireworks._   And let’s not mention the circus fiasco.”

That grin got impossibly wider.  “Well, it’s too late to back out now.”

“If this is anything like last year’s–”

“It’s _way_ better than last year’s.”

Steve inwardly groaned.  _Just please…  No animals._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _malyutka_ – little one


	2. Chapter 2

Well, there were animals.  _Lots_ of animals.

At least this time they were in cages and pens for the most part.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Steve breathed, shaking his head in complete astonishment.  Sarah sat atop his shoulders, and he had a sandal clad foot in each hand as he stared at the entrance to the Bronx Zoo down the street.  “You _bought_ the zoo for the day?”

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, sliding what were undoubtedly thousand dollar sunglasses on his face.  “Technically, I rented it.”

“What sort of place is this?” Thor asked.  He wore khaki shorts and a gray shirt.  Tony looked at him funny, like he was trying to judge whether or not the Asgardian was pulling their legs again.  Steve didn’t think so.

Bruce was quick to explain.  “It’s a place where we keep animals you normally can’t see where you live.  A sanctuary for them, usually, for endangered and exotic species and the like.  And kids love it.”

“Great,” Clint grumbled, putting on his own sunglasses.  “I hate zoos.”

Bruce looked at him funny.  “No zoos.  No clowns.  What kind of a circus hand were you?”

“The kind that doesn’t like things that stink or freak me out,” Clint responded.

“Give it a rest, Barton,” Natasha smoothly said on a sigh, pushing past him as their group walked down the street.  She was wearing tan capris and a blue button-down cotton shirt, looking every bit as stunning as she always did.   She pulled her fiery hair up into a pony tail; it was already pretty hot, with the sun bright and bold in a cloudless, blue sky, and it was only going to get warmer.  Hopefully there would be some shade inside.  The sun didn’t bother Steve much now, but before the serum, he’d burned in the blink of an eye, and Sarah was as fair as he’d been when he’d been a kid, and–

“Here, Captain Worrywort,” Tony said, shoving a clear, plastic bag at Steve.  There was sunscreen in there.  “SPF 1000 for spazzing parents.  I even got the original kind since the spray stuff causes cancer.  I guess.”

Steve gave Tony a bit of a withering smile.  “Such a boy scout,” he jabbed lightly, reaching up to get Sarah under her arms and wrangle her down off his shoulders.  She protested, but he held her still.  “Trust me, baby girl,” he said as he crouched, smeared the sunscreen on his fingers, and rubbed it all over her around her shorts and top.  “You’ll be miserable otherwise.”  She whined and struggled more, looking ahead where the rest of the group was nearly at the entrance.  “Sarah, hold still.”  She was too excited, squirming so much that he got it all over her shirt and his shorts.  He wiped the mess away on his own skin, trying to get her face.  It was a moving target.  “Sarah!”

“Cooperate, kiddo, or the party’s starting without you,” Tony warned, coming closer to pin her against his legs.  “And trust me: you don’t want to miss it.”

That was sufficient to get her to stop.  Steve finished covering every exposed inch of her skin with the sunscreen, even dipping his hands under the straps of her shirt.  Her pony tail had gotten a little mussed, so he straightened it and brushed the loose strands from her face.  “You listenin’?”  She was _so_ excited, bouncing practically against Tony’s legs, her eyes darting between Tony, Steve, and Thor, who was waiting for her near the entrance to the zoo.  It was like she was physically unable to pay attention to him.  She probably was.  If there was one thing Steve had learned about toddlers it was that you couldn’t expect them to act like little adults.  They were an entirely different species.  And that old adage that babies didn’t come with instructions manuals was even more applicable now than it had been two years ago.  “Hey, baby girl.  Listen to me.”  He took her face in his hands, which were still so huge compared to her, and made her look at him.  “Remember what I said this morning.  Lots of fun stuff, but you have to be good, no matter what.  Big girl today, right?”  She nodded enthusiastically, clutching her snuggie to her chin, eyes huge and blue.  Steve smiled.  “Alright.  Kiss.  Then go.”

She planted a huge, wet one on his cheek as fast as possible.  “Come on, Unca Tony!” she cried, quite done with daddy and instead grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him toward the others.  Steve stood up, watching his three year-old daughter pulling one of the richest and smartest men on the planet toward her birthday party.  Tony made a show of dragging his feet before succumbing to her “superior” strength.  Then he raced her.

“I don’t know who’s more excited,” Pepper said with a roll of her eyes.  She’d changed from her outfit earlier, dressed now in a summery dress with her hair pulled back.  Steve watched as Thor snatched up Sarah, spun her around, and put her on his shoulders with one arm.  Tony grabbed Clint, obviously bugging him to do the same, and Clint lightly shoved him away.  The group ahead lingered a moment more before they headed into the zoo.

Steve and Pepper walked after at a more leisurely pace.  Steve had never been here, despite having grown up not terribly far away.  He was sure as well that the zoo of today was nothing like the zoo had been when he’d been a kid.  So, truth be told, he was excited, too.  “Was this Tony’s idea?”

“Yeah,” Pepper responded.  “All him.”  Steve couldn’t help but be touched.  Sarah had had a thing for animals for week now; it was the latest topic with which her little brain was obsessed.  A puppy was, of course, paramount to that obsession, so this was probably Tony’s way of giving her what she wanted without _giving_ her what she wanted.  “Of course, he should have asked you first.”

“No, this is great.”

“Well, he hasn’t told you about the fact that he turned the entire zoo into a petting zoo,” Pepper said with a wince.

Steve nearly stopped dead in his tracks, an image of Tony trying to restrain an over-eager Sarah as she reached her hand right up to a lion’s roaring mouth.  “Uh,” was all he managed.  He suddenly had a nearly overwhelming urge to go get his shield.

Pepper took his arm, reading him as well as she always did.  “Easy.  You think I would let him feed your daughter to the lions?  Or tigers?  Or bears.  Whatever.”  Of course not.  Steve’s relief was unreasonable, so much so that he almost didn’t register Pepper’s next words.  “So have you given any thought to what I said a few weeks go?”

That was fairly nondescript, but he knew exactly to what she was referring.  Just the mention of it tempered his good cheer and brought worries about which he didn’t want to think to the forefront.  He’d tucked those concerns away, putting off really considering what Pepper had said to him right after she’d said it.  Maybe that was lazy and irresponsible, but it was too uncomfortable.  “Not really, to be honest.”

Pepper didn’t say anything to push or make him feel worse about it.  She sighed softly, smiling faintly as they strolled slowly through the gates of the zoo.  “Yeah, I know.  It’s a big deal to consider.  But it’s the end of August already.  I mean, you don’t _have_ to start in September – we’re not talking about college here.  Still…  I vetted a few programs, like I said.”

It wasn’t like him to shirk something like this, but he _really_ didn’t want to talk about it now.  “I don’t know, Pepper.”

“I think it would be a good idea,” Pepper said.  She lowered her tone, not trying to be pushy in the least but wanting to express her opinion seriously.  She was never afraid to tell him what she thought about Sarah, from the baby needing to give up her bottle to being ready to potty train to how to handle a tantrum or two.  Pepper was extremely proficient at everything she did, so knowledgeable and capable, and that extended to raising Sarah.  She was a natural at managing things, people included, and her advice had been invaluable since Sarah’s first day home in the Tower.  But this…  He didn’t know how to take this.  Part of him knew that Pepper was right, and that made it worse.  The other part of him, however, wasn’t ready to do this.  At all.  To even be _contemplating_ it.  Pepper sensed his distress, of course.  The frown on his face was probably a dead giveaway.  “It’s not college, Steve,” she reminded again softly.  “Just preschool.”

“She’s only three,” Steve hastily replied, like they both didn’t know that.  It sounded a tad bit like whining to him, and he knew a thing or two about what whining sounded like.  “And she knows her letters and numbers already.  Heck, she knows more than I knew at three.  Plus she lives with two of the smartest men on the planet.  If it’s really that big of a deal, we can get her a private tutor although…”  He gave a rough laugh.  “If I can’t teach her abc’s and one-two-three’s, we got a problem.”

“Steve, that’s not what this is about.”  He knew that but having her call him out on it made him tip his head back and sigh.  He stopped again, letting the rest of the group get even further ahead.  Sarah squealed, being passed between Thor and Tony and Clint, tickled and teased until Natasha came in and mock glared at the men and stole her away from them.  Pepper grasped his shoulder and he looked at her, squinting in the bright sunlight.  “Look, I know why you’re worried.  The Tower is safe.  What we have now is safe.”  Steve sighed.  “But she needs to play with other kids.  Preschool will give her an opportunity to be with children her age.”  He opened his mouth to brush her concerns aside, but she didn’t let him.  “That’s important, Steve.  Sarah’s a one-of-a-kind kid.  I know that.  She lives with heroes and geniuses and spies.  She plays princess pageants with the Prince of Asgard.”  Steve smiled and shook his head at that.  “Her father is Captain America.  But she needs to experience other kids, socialize with them, _learn_ from them.  There are things we can’t teach her about sharing and friends and–”

“I know that,” he admitted quietly.

Pepper smiled disarmingly, compassionately.  “It’s three days a week for three hours in the morning, if you’re worried it’s too much.”

“No.  No, it’s not that.”

She nodded.  “I figured it wasn’t.”  She came a step closer.  “She lives with the Avengers.  Who can hurt her there?  Who can touch her?  But the thing is…  She can’t stay in the Tower forever.  Remember how nervous you were the day you told the world Sarah was your daughter?”  Of course he did.  He counted that press conference among the most terrifying moments of his life, and if it hadn’t been for Pepper and Tony at his side and the others supporting him, he would never have been able to go through with it.  To stand up in front of the country he served and admit to everyone that he had a child without explaining where she’d come from or why in any detail…  The public had gone crazy with it afterwards, a storm of talking and speculation that had flooded the twenty-four hour news channels and social media networks alike.  And, surprisingly (although maybe he shouldn’t have been so shocked), people were hugely accepting.  _Respecting,_ on the other hand, was not so easy a thing for them.  Literally hundreds of interview requests had flooded the Tower.  To her credit, Pepper had been prepared, and she’d fielded them with absolute aplomb.  People had sent gifts, which Tony being Tony had checked for bombs and biological agents and questionable content before distributing them to Steve and Sarah.  All of them had been clean, of course, but immediately the fears with which he’d been struggling came to the surface.  The world and all of the people who plotted against it, evil men and tyrants and enemies…  They now knew Captain America had a daughter.  _Captain America has a daughter._

People could try to hurt her.  Take her from him.  Use her against him.  He was the leader of the Avengers and an agent of SHIELD.  He was an enemy of the bad people of the world, a very visible one.  He had been during the war.  He was even more so now with his picture plastered all over the media, his likeness on t-shirts and posters and made into toys.  He’d never cared for the attention during the USO Tour or the war; the adulation after the Battle of New York had been downright uncomfortable, but he’d just ignored it and gone on with his life.  Now it was Sarah whose life was influenced and maybe even endangered by the exposure.

Pepper was sympathetic but more practical.  “Steve, you can’t protect her all the time.  And you don’t need to.  I know you’ve been… wary–”  He shot her something of an unhappy glare.  “I was going to say suspicious.  _Wary_ of involving anyone else in her care beyond Rebecca and me, but I don’t think you need to be.  Trusting people is hard.  I know.  I’m married to the king of trust-issues.”  Steve set his hands to his hips a tad defiantly.  Pepper wasn’t off-put.  “A few days of preschool a week would be good for her.  And good for you, because it’s not just Sarah who doesn’t socialize.”

He was definitely not interested in _that_ conversation.  “We socialize,” he insisted.  She gave him a doubtful (albeit playful) look.  Steve wasn’t going to back down.  “At the park.  She plays.  I… see people.”

“You sit there and try not to be noticed.”

“Pepper–”

Pepper set a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “Steve, you’re lonely,” she said.  He flushed like he’d been caught red-handed.  So what if he was a little?  So what?  “I’m not trying to upset you.  And I didn’t want to get into this whole thing today.  I just…  I worry about you.  And Sarah.  You’re both so isolated.  And it’s great that we have this…”  Her lips twisted into a smile.  “… _unconventional_ family together, but you two need to get out.”

Steve sighed.  It was hard to deny Pepper, first because she was so considerate and loving, and second because, well…  She was right.  “I can’t protect her out there.  I can protect her with me.”

“Trust a little,” she gently returned.  “Like I said, these are top notch preschool programs.  Private and exclusive.  We can do it secretly so no one has to know who she is or who you are.”

He didn’t like that.  “You’re going to trust a three year-old to not tell someone Captain America’s her father?”

Now Pepper grimaced because Steve was right.  Sarah was smart.  She might not know what Steve did.  And she didn’t know who Captain America was for certain.  But she knew her father was Captain America.  She knew her Uncle Tony was Iron Man.  Thor was Thor.  They’d never hidden any of that from her, so there was no way to hide it from anyone she might encounter.  “Alright, well, then go at it openly.  Embrace it.  You’re going to have to eventually.”

“You two coming or what?” Tony called from ahead, distracting them from their conversation.  Steve was grateful, to be honest, as he looked to the rest of the Avengers.  The group was paused near the inner gates of the zoo where the ticket kiosks and information booths were.  They were waiting.

Pepper sighed, rubbing Steve’s shoulder affectionately.  “There’s nothing wrong with waiting another year, too,” she conceded.  “Wait until you’re ready.”

“No, it’s–”

“Daddy,” whined Sarah loudly from Clint’s back.  “Come on!  Birthday time!”

He looked at her and thought of what Pepper was saying.  And he nodded.  “Alright.”

Pepper actually looked ashamed of herself, like she wanted to backtrack.  “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“It’s alright,” Steve said dismissively as he started walking toward the others.

Pepper sighed and took a long stride to catch up.  “No, it’s not.  I’m bullying you on her birthday.  I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Stop.”  He stopped and so did she.  He smiled now, even though he was unsettled and smarting a little.  “It’s fine.  We can look over the options tomorrow, okay?  You’re right.  I’m being stupid about it.”  She looked aghast, like that was making her guilt worse.  “No, no.  Pepper, I’m not beating myself up about it.  It’s fine.  You’re right.”  She regarded him doubtfully, on the verge of a full-on frown.  “Come on.  We’re holding up the party.”

Ahead, Tony was talking to someone in a pink Bronx Zoo shirt who was obviously there to coordinate whatever he had planned.  She was young, about Steve’s age, sweet, and beautiful, with dark hair and deeply blue eyes.  Steve stared at her a second, watching as she beamed at Tony, obviously overjoyed and shocked to be meeting the Avengers like this.  She turned, smiling and laughing and falling over herself to greet them.  “Cap!” Tony called, waving him closer.  Steve left Pepper’s side with a bright smile and half a hug to hopefully put to rest her concerns and joined the others.  At seeing him, Sarah squirmed away from Clint and catapulted herself across the way.  She practically leapt into Steve’s arms, and Steve scooped her up.  “Cap, this is Amanda.  She’s lovely and sweet and here to cater to our every whim.”

The young woman, Amanda, came up closer.  She really was lovely, striking, and when she smiled, there was something familiar about her, like Steve was sure he’d met her before somewhere.  “Oh, wow.  Can’t believe I’m meeting Captain America.”

Sarah nuzzled her face into Steve’s neck.  She wasn’t usually shy about strangers, and Steve was flustered enough by her reaction and _his_ reaction to Amanda that he could barely manage a grin.  He shifted Sarah to his left arm and held his right out to her.  “I don’t know about Captain America,” he said.  “Steve Rogers.”

“Amanda Thayer,” she said, flashing him a smile that barely hid her nervousness.  She shook his hand.  “Hi.  It’s an honor.”

“Pleasure’s mine.”  Lord, that sounded corny.  Or maybe just the way he said it did.

“And this is Sarah?”

Sarah clung to him, her little arms tight around his neck.  He didn’t bother with anything awkward, didn’t want to put this girl off by forcing Sarah to be politer.  “Yeah.  She’s, uh…  Three.”

Amanda smiled.  She went around to Steve’s back, where Sarah was nuzzling her face into his shoulder.  “Hi, Sarah.  I’m Mandy.  You wanna see some animals on your big birthday?”  Steve could feel her nod.  “Because I have lots to show you.  You wanna see… lions?”  Another nod.  “Zebras?”  Another.  “How about elephants and giraffes?”  More nods, and Sarah wasn’t grabbing onto Steve quite so tightly.   “And I got a special surprise.  Do you, on your special birthday, want to pet a tiger cub?”  _Oh, geez._ Sarah lifted her head completely and nodded vigorously.  “You do?  Well, that’s good, since our tiger trainer and zookeepers are ready to show you all the animals we have in our zoo here.  And we happen to have a cub and some other awesome animals just waiting for you to come down and meet them.  So are you ready?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, then!  Come on, pumpkin pie!” Tony declared, clapping his hands.  He had a million pet names and nicknames for Sarah.  With that, her moment of wariness was over.  She squirmed her way down from Steve’s arms and went straight to Tony, grabbing his hand and heading into the zoo.

Clint stopped next to Steve, jabbing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  “We’re petting tigers today?” he asked, watching as Tony, Sarah, and Amanda headed off.  Amanda was enthusiastically explaining what they had planned to Sarah.  Sarah was clearly over whatever had bothered her; she was bouncing and asking questions and smiling brighter than the sun.

Steve’s heart melted just a little.  “Apparently.”

“I’m not petting anything,” Clint declared obstinately, disgust all over his grimacing face.

“Are tigers not vicious carnivores?” Thor asked, glancing at the other Avengers.  “Should I have brought Mjölnir?  I need but summon–”

“No,” Steve said.  “Let’s not go there.”

“I’m sure Stark has his suit somewhere nearby,” Natasha said, coming to stand on Steve’s other side, folding her arms across her chest.  “If not, well…”

“Tell me you didn’t bring a gun into a zoo,” Bruce groaned.  Natasha only coolly arched an eyebrow.  “This is the reason we don’t do ‘family’ outings.”

“Come on, you slow-pokes!” Tony yelled from ahead.

“Cap, next year, you are firing him from the party-planning committee,” Natasha groaned.

“Committee?  When was the last time Tony did anything in a committee?” Bruce replied as they started walking.

Clint was honest-to-goodness dragging his feet.  Thor smacked him on the shoulder hard enough to get him moving.  “Worry not,” he said proudly.  “On Asgard, I was known for my prowess in soothing wild beasts.”  It was probably yet another of Thor’s ridiculous tales.  He seemed to have an infinite number of them.  “And those I could not soothe I simply wrestled into submission.”

Clint stared at him.  “You are so full of it,” he said.  And the conversation deteriorated from there into an all-out debate about which Avenger would be best suited for lion taming.  Or wrestling.  Steve wasn’t certain, both because it was among the dumber of the stupid arguments they’d had and because he was watching Amanda hold Sarah’s hand, watching Sarah bubble with excitement with her new friend, watching the both of them turn to wave at him.  He waved back, taken by the way the sunlight struck Amanda’s hair.  It wasn’t quite as black as he’d thought at first but more of a deep, deep brown.  It didn’t strike him until a little later that this was the first time in a long, _long_ time he’d cared to notice something like that about a woman.

And she was still smiling.  She had a really, really nice smile.

He noticed that, too.

* * *

As it turned out, none of the Avengers were needed to wrangle, wrestle, put down, or otherwise interfere with any of the “petting” zoo animals.  Tony’s limitless funds and influence had the entire zoo serving them, which made Steve more than a little uncomfortable, but he was pretty quick to forget that when he saw Sarah’s pure joy and amazement while she touched the tiger cub’s fur.  She sat on his lap, zookeepers, animal experts, and Avengers surrounding them, while they brought a slew of tamed beasts out for her to pet.  She absolutely loved it.  Mandy and the other zoo personnel took every precaution, and they had all sorts of interesting information to convey, including the animals’ names, from where they’d come, what sorts of things they ate and did, and so on.  Bruce threw in his added input; he positively loved teaching Sarah about things, and he seemed about as knowledgeable about zoology as he was about everything else.  Steve spent the time doing everything possible to keep Sarah calm.  He knew he was being an over-protective parent.  This was obviously completely safe.  But he couldn’t help himself.

After the “petting zoo”, they went out to explore the real zoo.  Mandy, as she kept telling them all and Steve especially to call her, had obviously designed a nice day for them, taking them to all the major attractions with the endurance of a toddler in mind.  Sarah was traded among everyone, spending some time with Pepper and Tony, with Clint and Natasha (Clint seemed to get over his unwillingness to participate pretty quickly and was engaged in some sort of retelling of a mission he and Black Widow had undertaken some years back in Africa that Natasha was fervently trying to censor), with Bruce as he continued to show and teach her things.  Steve watched for the most part, enjoying Sarah’s enjoyment, enjoying the team’s enjoyment of her.  Thor walked with him a little behind the group, commenting that these “family outings”, as Bruce termed it, were quite pleasant and should be done more often, not only on special occasions.  Honestly, Steve couldn’t see how.  They were the Avengers.  Most of them (well, Natasha and Clint had identities still protected by SHIELD) couldn’t go anywhere that didn’t involve a battle without a media circus following them.  It was a minor miracle Tony had managed this.  Still, Thor was right.  This really was nice, fun to relax and enjoy the afternoon and look at animals, learn a thing or two even.  Even the animals seemed to recognize this was special day (unless they, too, could be bought by the Stark fortune and charm – Steve wouldn’t be surprised) because so many of them were right at the fences of their pens, easy to see to Sarah’s wonder.  She even enjoyed the reptile house, which Steve found strange since she usually seemed to be afraid of lizards and snakes and the like.

Once they were through with their tour, they went to a large area that was probably normally some sort of food court or picnic area.  Instead there was a huge tent, with balloons and streamers and – _no_ – it looked like Disney World in there.  Princes and princesses and characters from children’s films, some of which Steve recognized and others he didn’t.  There was even a little pint-sized rollercoaster thing, nicer than a carnival one but still temporarily assembled.  A couple of long tables adorned in table cloths, decorations, and nice dishes were under the tent, and a few caterers manned grills and other cooking stations.  Steve couldn’t believe his eyes.  “Holy mother of…”

Sarah jumped away from him and ran to Tony, who stood in front of the party area with his arms open wide.  “Can Uncle Tony deliver, or _can_ he deliver?”  She launched herself at him, and together they went to greet the princesses in their dresses and crowns.  Each had a miniature version of the gown she was wearing for Sarah, and Sarah squealed with excitement at every one.

“Lord Almighty,” Clint whispered.

Natasha muttered something in Russian, shaking her head.  “Definitely fired from the planning committee next year.”

“I fail to see why this affair distresses you all so,” Thor declared as their group headed slowly toward the table.  “I often had celebrations such as this in my honor as a child.”

“You’re a prince,” Steve said once he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor.  One of the waiters ( _waiters, for crying out loud!_ ) brought him a glass of lemonade without him even asking.  The young man went to the rest of their little party, dispensing beverages.  “Princes have parties like this.  Normal people?  I was lucky to get _anything_ for my birthday when I was a kid.”

“Look at him, though,” Bruce said, watching Tony as he introduced Sarah to all of her favorite princesses.  Sarah had about three crowns atop her head, mussing her pony tail even more.  “He’s in his element.  Can’t fault a man for wanting to make a child happy.”

Steve supposed he couldn’t deny that.  It was about dinner time, so they all sat at one of the tables.  He called Tony and Sarah over to eat, and Sarah came with a token bit of resistance.  Once Tony somewhat sternly reminded her about good behavior, she reluctantly waved goodbye to the princesses and characters.  Steve felt so bad for those poor people dressed like that in the heat that it was almost a relief to see them leave.

“I should be off, too,” Mandy said, seeing her charges were appropriately seated and well on the way to eating.

“No, hey, wait.”  Steve was out of his seat before he even thought to do it.  Mandy stopped at the edge of the tent.  Steve smiled, feeling heat rising on his cheeks and praying the blush wasn’t too obvious.  “You should stay.  Eat.  I know Mr. Stark probably has enough food here to feed an army.”  Considering how Thor (and he, to be honest) ate, that was an accurate assessment.  “You’ve been real nice to – to Sarah, so I thought you should eat.  With me – us!  With us.  You know, if you’re hungry.”  Could he sound any more pathetic?

Mandy simply smiled that dazzling smile of hers.  “I’d love to, Captain Rogers, but–”

“It’s Steve.”

She flushed, pale, flawless skin coloring a lovely rose.  “Steve, then.  Even still, I have some things I need to do.”

 He couldn’t help his disappointment and a rather (adolescent) desperate need to get her to stay.  “Are you sure?  Because it’s not a problem.  At all.  Really.”  He could practically feel the team talking under their breaths about him behind him, but he didn’t care.  He forced his most confident smile onto his face.  “Stay.”

She looked genuinely torn, coming closer to him.  Her eyes were so deeply blue, stunning but still somehow so familiar, but he couldn’t think much beyond that.  “I can’t.  I’m sorry.”  She held out her hand to him, which he took with a sad breath.  She was sincerely unhappy, as well.  He could tell.  “Enjoy the rest of the day, though.  And come back to zoo anytime.  I’d love to see you and Sarah again.”

He nodded dumbly, heart pounding, sweat gathering on the small of his back and temples that had nothing to do with the day’s heat.  The simple touch of her skin was stupidly electrifying as she folded her other hand over both of theirs in a lingering moment before turning and heading back toward the main area of the zoo.  He watched her until she was gone.

“Pretty pathetic, Cap,” Tony called.  He had a knowing grin plastered on his face.  “Go get her number.”

Steve bristled inwardly, dreading the ribbing and teasing he was certain was coming right his way.  He turned back to the table and passed his hand over Sarah’s head before sitting beside her.  “Why not?” Natasha asked in response to his silent no.  “She seems really nice.  And you’re _really_ desperate.”

“I am not,” Steve insisted as the waiters set a plate full of gourmet picnic fare in front of him.  He took up a knife and fork and cut up Sarah’s chicken tenders for her.  Like every other aspect of his life since Sarah had come into it, his romantic aspirations had become a matter of public interest.  Marriage proposals came by the dozens in fan mail.  People talked about his love life over social media like it was their business.  He’d even been on a few magazines’ most eligible bachelor lists.  He didn’t know what it was, but single dad seemed to scream marriage material, like the thought of him being alone and lonely and really incapable (and he wasn’t any of those, not really) was a beacon to the young female population of the country.  Natasha was the worst, and her obsession wasn’t so easy to dismiss as tabloid sensationalism.  She’d apparently made it her personal mission to find him a girl.  She came back to the Tower at least once a week with “So, you know Lillian in accounting?” or “What do you think of Agent Landry?” or “So-and-so says she’d go out with you if you asked…”  It was embarrassing and a little annoying, but she was persistent, even going so far as to suggest some internet dating programs.  And she wasn’t the only one.  Clint had said something once.  Tony.  Bruce.  Even Thor.  And Pepper, of course.

“Steve, in case your brain is firing on its oblivious cylinders again today, she was into you,” Tony said from the other end of the table.  “Like seriously.  You didn’t notice the number of times she checked you out.”

“What’s that mean, Daddy?” Sarah asked around a mouthful of chicken.

“Nothing, honey.  And don’t talk with your mouth full,” he lightly admonished, putting a straw in her glass of juice for her.

“I have her number,” Tony offered matter-of-factly, like he was just trying to be helpful.

“You need to date,” Clint said bluntly.  For being so pushy about Steve’s love life herself, Natasha had the audacity to shoot Clint a glare.  “What?”

“I have thought this as well,” Thor agreed.  “My lady Jane continually suggests that her intern is also in need of a suitable companion.”

“ _Darcy?_ ” Bruce said, making a face.  He shook his head.  “Jane may be a certifiable genius, but a matchmaker she is not.”

Steve had to agree with that.  Darcy was nice (well, she had been the few times he’d met her), but she was loud and uninhibited and scatter-brained and fast-paced.  Very much into pop culture and technology and social media.  Not for him.  And he needed to put a stop to this before it went any further.  “Okay, can we just not talk about this right now?”

“You always deflect like that,” Natasha said, just a tad frustrated, as she broke a roll apart to butter it.  She wasn’t looking at him.  “Always.”  That sounded more muttered to herself.

Steve winced.  Group outings _were_ nice, but they invariably turned to this sort of stuff.  Discussions about raising Sarah or getting Steve more involved at SHIELD or offers for him to take some time off or his romantic aspirations (or lack thereof).  If the team had “adopted” Sarah, they’d done even worse to him, smothering him (in a good way, though) with care and concern.  He just wished they’d stop assuming something was wrong.  _Nothing_ was, nothing serious at any rate.  He could admit (to himself) that he was a little lonely, but not so much that it bothered him.  The Tower was never empty; there was always _someone_ around.  And maybe, _maybe_ , he was a little bored.  But he was also happy, and Sarah’s safety was his top priority at all times.  Going out didn’t seem conducive to that, at least not beyond the park or shopping occasionally.  And as far dating…  “I’m not ready.”

Natasha gave him a look that told him pretty quickly what she thought of that.  And she was right, even if he flushed with about as much irritation as he did embarrassment.  Not ready.  What was there to be ready for?  He was carrying on about it all like he was mourning.  Mourning _what?_   Granted, Peggy had passed away last year, and that had been difficult (to say the least), but he was at peace with that and at peace with what he could have had with her.  He’d never told her about Sarah; her mind had been so flighty with dementia in her last years that he didn’t think she’d understand (or remember), and he hadn’t wanted to burden or upset her.  She’d gotten so confused at the end of it all that she’d thought it was 1945, that Howard had found him and they were going to have their dance…

He’d grieved and let that go.  And he was well over the adjustment of having Sarah in his life.  So what wasn’t he ready for?  They were not talking about marriage here.  Or commitment.  Just a date.  Just having fun and getting to know someone else.  Just trusting someone.  Just a little.

He caught Pepper’s knowing eyes.  She smiled tenderly.  “Sarah, baby, what was your favorite animal?”

He could have kissed her for changing the topic so smoothly.  The rest of the dinner was spent talking about the zoo, everyone’s favorite animals enthusiastically discussed for the benefit of the birthday girl.  Sarah’s favorite was the tiger cub, of course, and she had endless things to say about that, gabbing through the rest of the meal.  After that, they brought out the cake, and everyone sang (which was saying a lot, since none of them were really into this sort of nonsense, and boy what a field day the media would have with a video of _this_ ).  Sarah clambered onto Steve’s lap to blow out the three candles on her tiger cub shaped cake.  It was delicious, like everything else.  Thor had about three pieces.  Sarah, predictably, got it all over herself, and Steve paused for a potty break to change her into a different outfit.  She insisted on one of the princess dresses, and he couldn’t really argue with her on her birthday, so back to the party she ran in glittering gold and sparkling tulle.

Presents came after that.  Much to Steve’s pleasure, Tony had reined himself in this year.  There were only a few from him and Pepper.  They were extravagant, of course.  An intricate dollhouse, complete with dolls and furniture.  A brand new next generation StarkPad (Tony had wanted to give her that a few months ago when Steve had complained that she used his all the time and loaded it with kid apps and videos, but Steve had made him wait until now).  The worst of all was a trip to Disney World.  Apparently Tony had rented out the Magic Kingdom just like he had rented out the zoo.  He’d taken the liberty of clearing Steve’s schedule at SHIELD, and he, Tony, Pepper, and Sarah would spend the weekend in Orlando.  Sarah flipped her lid, throwing her arms around Tony’s neck and let loose a high-pitched squeal.  Steve grimaced.  This was too much, and part of his unhappiness was definitely a sense of insecurity.  How in the _world_ could he compete with that?

There were other things.  A cloak that Thor claimed came from a line of Asgardian noble daughters with an enchantment for beautify and luck.  It was way too nice and too pretty, but he insisted and Steve settled on just finding a way to hide it in Sarah’s closet until she was older.  Natasha brought her a new array of crayons, paints, and paper with a promise for yet another art session.  Bruce gave her a slew of children’s books, _real_ books with actual _pages_ that were full of brightly colored pictures and information about the stars and the planets.  He, too, said he’d be by soon to read them to her and show her anything she wanted to see.  Steve made her go around to each of them with a hug and a huge “thank you”.

The rest of the evening resulted in the remainder of the cake being demolished while they lazed in the nice, warm weather.  Lemonade was consumed in earnest.  Then Sarah rode that little rollercoaster about a hundred times.  Steve stopped watching after the first dozen go-arounds.  Instead he talked with the others, about nothing important or anything in particular.  At least until Bruce pulled him aside.  “Quite a party, huh?” the doctor asked.

Steve watched Sarah screech her way around the little ups and downs of the rollercoaster track again.  It was about time to put a stop to this.  The sun was setting, it was past bedtime, and another few rides would probably result in her throwing up her dinner and cake which didn’t sound like a particularly fun way to end the day.  “Yeah,” he agreed.

“So I was wondering if you’d bring Sarah down to the lab again,” Bruce asked.

That immediately got Steve’s attention.  He dropped his arms from his chest to appraise his friend.  “Huh?  Why?”

“Nothing serious,” Bruce said disarmingly.  “When I ran the genetic analysis last week, a few results came up a tad abnormal.”  That feeling of dread tightened in Steve rapidly.  Bruce immediately noticed.  “It’s probably nothing.  Less than one percent of the cells I tested showed some strange things.  It’s a statistical outlier, but I just want to be sure.”

Steve couldn’t breathe.  “Strange like what?”

Bruce laughed lightly.  “Seriously, Steve.  It’s nothing.  I’m more concerned about the integrity of my equipment than I am that it actually was a real reading.  A fraction of a percent.  Chalk it up to my obsessive compulsive need for everything to be perfect.”

Steve managed a grin at that.  “Alright.”

“Hey!  What say you to packing this in?” Tony called from the side of the rollercoaster.  “I think she’s nodding off.  Or passing out.”  Steve lurched forward before Tony offered up a cheeky grin and a “just kidding”.

They wrapped it up.  Steve went and acquired Sarah from the ride, and at that point overtired toddler took over with a vengeance.  She screamed.  She kicked.  She threw a rip-roaring tantrum.  Steve decided to not bother reasoning or arguing or anything; he’d figured this was going to happen, so he just hoisted Sarah’s struggling form up under his arm and carried her out.  He was Captain America.  A screaming little girl had nothing on him, not even if her crocodile tears got to his heart a little.  The others followed, carrying Sarah’s haul.  Everything else the staff would handle.

During the ride back to the Tower, she wore herself out.  It didn’t take long.  Clint drove, Natasha next to him, Sarah in the back with Steve.  She was half asleep by the time they got home.  The sun was dipping below the horizon, spreading pleasant summer shadows over Midtown.  Safe in the garage under the Tower, Steve unstrapped her from her car seat and transferred her to his arms.  JARVIS anticipated a collapsing three year-old, and the elevator sped quickly to the residential suites.  When they reached Steve’s floor, Clint and Natasha both wished Sarah a goodnight to which she responded with sniffles, half a hug, and a tired kiss.  Steve carried her into her bedroom.  She needed a bath, but she was half asleep, so he wasn’t going to bother until the morning.  He sat her on the bed, pulling her princess dress over her head.  He went into her bathroom, getting her hairbrush, toothbrush, and a wet washcloth.  In short order, he had her washed off, the mess of her hair mostly untangled, teeth brushed, dressed in pajamas, and tucked into her bed.  “Just stay here a second, okay, baby?”  She nodded.  He left her there a moment to go into his bedroom to get the gift he’d gotten for her.

When he appeared in her doorway, her eyes locked on the present wrapped in pink and white and a final jolt of energy got her sitting up in her bed.  Steve smiled.  “Did you think I forgot?”  She shook her head.  She was so tired and overwhelmed that she probably hadn’t even noticed that Steve hadn’t given her anything yet.  He plunked down on the carpet next to her bed and handed it to her.  “Happy birthday, baby.”

Despite being most of the way exhausted, she tore into the paper.  Her eyes immediately went to the stuffed dog.  It was honey colored, about the size of her snuggie.  That seemed to bring to the forefront something she’d conveniently forgotten.  “I didn’t get a puppy.”

“Well, yes you did.  You know what this is?”  He took the little stuffed animal.  “ _This_ is a promise that someday – not today, but someday – when you’re older, we will get a puppy.” 

She looked like she wanted to cry.  “Unca Tony said no.”

“Uncle Tony listens to me,” he said, quickly and calmly.  He wiped the pad of his thumb down her face and poked her nose.  She smiled.  “There’s this little thing called chain of command, and you know what?”  He moved closer like he was going to share a secret, skillful fingers going right for her sides.  “Your daddy’s at the top of it around here.”  He tickled and she laughed and laughed.  Honestly, he didn’t know if he could convince Tony right now, but he was pretty sure he could in the long run, sure enough to make this promise.

When she settled down, he grinned.  “I’ll work on him.  So you keep this close because when the day comes when we get a puppy, I’ll be expecting you to trade this in for the real thing.  Okay?”  He didn’t know if she understood that, but it was enough to make her smile more.  That and him fake kissing her with the dog.  She giggled, letting go of the old, frayed snuggie and taking the little dog instead.  “And you think about what you want to name him.”

“Her.  She’s a girl puppy.”

He laughed.  “Okay, her.  You think about it.  And hang onto her.  Got it?”

“Got it,” she said with a smile of cherry red lips behind her toy.  “Wazzat, Daddy?”

“This is the other thing I wanted to give you,” he said, leaning over her bed anew.  “And these you need to keep super safe, like in your special box.”  Her special box was a little jewelry box Pepper had given her last year, and she’d been putting things in it (or Steve had been putting things in it for her), keepsakes and the like.  “These…  I used to be a soldier, back before you were born.  And these are special things soldiers wear.  They’re real important.  These are mine.  I want you to have them.”

She looked at his dog tags, at the dull gray cards stamped with his name and other information she couldn’t read, not understanding at all what they were.  And of course she wouldn’t.  Giving them to her at three was probably a bit silly (and overly sentimental), but he wanted to do it anyway.  He wanted her to always have a part of him, just in case something should ever happen to separate them.  It wouldn’t, and he knew that, but it felt good to give them to her.  He’d even purchased a shorter, nicer chain for them, one she could potentially wear if she wanted.  She looked at him, big eyes again, certainly not realizing what this was for him.  “But they don’t have sparkles.”

He laughed.  “I know.  Not everything does.”

She wrinkled her nose adorably at them, like she was trying to consider the merit of jewelry that wasn’t covered in glitz.  “Tell you what,” Steve said.  He took the dog tags back, stood, and went to the special box.  “I’ll put them in here for now.  You can play with them later.”

“No!” she cried, snatching them back.  She obviously didn’t know what to think of them, but in typical toddler fashion, they were hers, so she wanted them.

Steve smiled.  “Okay.  I’ll put ’em right here, next to your bed.  I don’t want you to sleep wearing them.”

She nodded and he set them down on her bedside table.  Then he leaned over her bed, smoothing back her hair.  “You have a good birthday?”  She was getting really tired now, so she just nodded sleepily.  It was way past her bedtime.  “I’m glad, baby girl.  Sleep now.  Have sweet dreams.”  He kissed her a couple of times, clinging probably more than she should have, but she was still just a baby.  Still just three.  “G’night.”

“Night, Daddy,” she answered, eyes closed and thumb heading toward her mouth.  Steve stood and went to the door, switching off her light.  The nightlight in the corner was soft and dim, turning everything a shadowy, deep pink.  He stood at the door to make sure she was alright, but she was already asleep.  He watched a moment before closing the door behind him.

Back in the living area of his suite, Tony had apparently let himself in with a load of Sarah’s gifts.  He set those on the couch and coffee table.  “She down?”

“Yep.  I could have gotten that.”

“Was coming up anyway.”  Somehow Tony had been juggling a couple of bottles of beer with all the stuff.  “Want one?”

“Sure.”

The two of them headed out of Steve’s suite to the adjoining balcony.  A warm blast of summer air hit them; even after living in the future for going on five years now, Steve still wasn’t quite used to air conditioning.  They sat on two of the lounge chairs.  The sun was nearly set, spilling orange and red across the tall buildings of the city.  Below it was noisy with the hustle and bustle of a nice summer evening.  Up here, though, it was quiet and serene.  “Heck of a party, huh?” Tony said with a baiting smile, twisting off the top of his beer.

Steve grunted.  He popped the top off of his beer too, taking a long drink.  It was ice cold and he was thirsty.  He leaned back in the chair to watch the first of the night’s stars dot the lavender and cerulean canvas above.  The two sat in an almost comfortable silence.  Then Tony sighed.  “Alright.  I went a little overboard.”

“Little bit,” Steve agreed.

“Hard not to.  You know.”

Maybe some part of him wanted to confront Tony about spoiling Sarah so much.  But it wasn’t strong enough to actually do it.  Not tonight.  And he felt a tad hypocritical, given that he’d just promised to find a way to get her the dog she wanted.  “I know.”

Tony settled back on his chaise lounge with a hefty sigh, joining Steve in stargazing.  It was pretty remarkable, given their conflicting personalities and disparate backgrounds and rough beginnings with each other, that they’d gotten so close.  They had been before Sarah, good friends leading the Avengers together in a sense, but since she’d come into their world, they’d drawn even tighter together, forming something beyond friendship.  Tony had been the one to make so much of what had happened _happen_ , from paying the way to offering up his home to maintaining a level head through the emotional upheaval to helping Steve navigate said upheaval.  Steve had lost his way and nearly given Sarah up, and Tony had stopped him, even though that decision hadn’t been easy for any of them.  Tony, with all of his people, commitment, and responsibility issues, had been the one to bring Sarah back home.  When Steve really thought about it, about what he had with Tony now, it was closer to brotherhood, more so than any of the bonds he had with the other Avengers (which were still strong and deep, so that was truly saying something).  He hadn’t felt anything like this since Bucky, and it was really nice.

“Me turning the actual zoo into a petting zoo was pretty cool, though.  You have to admit.”

Steve smiled absently.  “Yeah, it was.  She loved it.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed proudly.  He paused again.  “Spose I should have asked you first.”

“’Salright.”

“And about the trip to Disney.”  Tony recognizing he’d overstepped his bounds was a fairly new development in their lives.  “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.  It’ll be fun.  I’ve never been there.”

“I know,” Tony said.  He sucked down another swig of his beer.  “That’s kinda why I didn’t ask.”

Steve looked over at him in confusion.  “What?  Why?”

Tony sighed, turning his gaze back to the sky.  He shrugged a little.  “Because I knew you’d say no.”  Steve couldn’t help his surprise (or his hurt) and both predictably registered on his face.  “You’d have told me it’s too much money or you had some commitments at SHIELD or some busywork to do for Fury.  Filing reports or some garbage.  Don’t even try to tell me otherwise.”  He wanted to, but he couldn’t because deep down inside he knew it was true.  Tony let out another long breath.  “After they thawed you out, you immediately threw yourself into working for SHIELD and leading us.  And now you’ve thrown yourself into Sarah, which is nothing to be ashamed of for sure, but you’ve never _been_ anywhere or done anything fun.  Just for yourself.”

“Sure I have,” Steve returned, a tad affronted.

Tony gave him a deadpan look.  “When.”  It wasn’t a question.  It was a challenge, one Steve knew he couldn’t beat.  He sighed and looked away.  “You’re turning into a regular hermit, even worse than Banner.  Forget dating.  Every time anyone offers to take you out, you find some excuse to turn it down.”

“I’ve been busy,” he offered lamely.

“You do know I have JARVIS spying on you, right?”  That wasn’t entirely a joke.  “So I call bull on that one.”  Tony sipped his beer.  “You need to go _do_ something.  Something for Steve Rogers, not for Captain America or Sarah’s daddy, even.  If everyone, and I mean _everyone_ , is telling you something, which from today’s awkward moment at dinner seems to be the case, it’s probably right.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow, trying not to think about what Tony was saying.  “Since when do you care what other people think?”

“Well, I don’t for me.  But for you, yeah.”  Tony shook his head like he was trying to explain something ridiculously obvious to a child.  “Let Pepper set you up.  Let me take you to LA the next time I have to go.  Get a drink with Clint.  Go… do something with Thor, preferably something that doesn’t end up with the two of you lost in the subways looking like hobos.”

“That was one time ­ _three years ago_ –”

“Go out with Big Red.”  That gave Steve pause, so much so that he sat up.  Tony regarded him with a sly grin, like he’d realized he hit pay dirt.  “Come on, Rogers.  You can’t be _that_ oblivious.   Underneath her prickly, icy, _evil_ exterior, she’s interested.  Why do you think she keeps trying to set you up with the entire female population of SHIELD?  She’s deflecting.”

He’d never thought about it that way.  This… wasn’t right.  Natasha had never _once_ in the years they’d been partners for SHIELD and teammates expressed _any_ interest _whatsoever_ in him.  For a while he’d been sure she was with Clint from how little attention she paid everyone else, including him.  They were good friends, nothing more.  Plus it seemed like a fundamentally _bad_ idea to get involved with anyone at work or on the team.  He couldn’t say why exactly, but it just did.

He wondered if Tony was pulling his leg, trying to goad him into doing something that would cause him to make a fool out of himself, but that was cruel, and Tony wasn’t mean.  At least, not that mean.  Still, his mind raced and went back to dinner.  Maybe Natasha was just a tad more frustrated with his reticence to go out than she should have been?  Maybe Tony was right?  He had no idea, and his brain was fairly effectively spiraling into uselessness at just the thought of it because it was so completely surprising.  “Or call that girl from the zoo today.  She seemed, uh, nice.”  Tony grinned knowingly.  “Doesn’t matter, Steve.  Go do something.  Sarah’s safe with us, you know.  You’re not the only superhero on the premises.”

Steve sighed.  Tony was right.  “I know.”

“Good.”

“It’s just… not easy to let go, you know?”

“I know.  But we’re not talking about marriage.  Or college.”

Steve darted Tony a slightly accusatory glance.  “Did you talk to Pepper?”

Tony ignored that.  “Point being, you deserve some fun.  Consider this an ultimatum: you will go out with someone, preferably of the female-variety but I’m desperate and will take a night of bromance over nothing.  You will leave your daughter in the capable hands of one of the many babysitters in the Tower.  You will do it this week.  And if you don’t, I’m going to ask Romanoff _for you._ ”

Steve blanched, imagining all sorts of vicious fall-out if Tony was wrong about Natasha (or, _worse_ , if he was right).  “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“She’s not…  Tony, that’s…  I don’t think…  She’s not interested in me.”

“One way to find out.”  That more than anything convinced Steve that Tony was teasing him about Natasha.  “Do you think Black Widow kills her mates before or after the first date?”

“That’s not fair!”

Tony was patently uncaring.  “Dem’s da breaks.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “You’re a cruel man, Tony Stark,” he grumbled into his bottle of beer.

Tony smiled.  “Only to those I love the most,” he said sweetly, and Steve shook his head, ruefully amused.  They were quiet a moment, enjoying the night, the easy camaraderie, and the quiet contentment.  Tony eventually leaned forward with a groan like it was too much work to move, knocking his bottle of beer against Steve’s.  “Here’s to three years.  When Fury approached me about the Avengers Initiative, I never imagined it would lead to this.  But it’s been one heck of a wild ride.  Glad to be a part of it.”

 _You’re much more than a part._ But he couldn’t make himself say it; it was too touching and too sentimental and not the sort thing they ever talked about.  “To many more,” he offered instead.  His smile said what he didn’t, and Tony beamed, clasping him on the shoulder before downing more of his beer and settling down to watch the sky again.  Steve smiled, too, leaning back in his chair and counting the stars.  Honestly, if this was it, with his biggest problems being decisions about preschools and (hopefully) fake ultimatums about dates, he could more than live with it.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Rogers!”_

Steve hastily hung with up Fury, pocketed his cell phone, and ran back into the workshop.  “What?  _What?_ ”

“This,” Tony seethed.

He shouldn’t laugh.  He _really_ shouldn’t.  He shouldn’t even smile, but it was _so hard_.  He’d left Sarah along with her coloring books and stickers at Tony’s old, nicked table in the back of his workshop for less than three minutes to take a call from SHIELD.  Apparently that hadn’t been wise, because she went to town and now DUM-E was completely covered in stickers of rainbows, stars, clouds, and unicorns.  The robot must have helped her, because the artwork continued up to his higher arm, which Sarah could not have possibly reached by herself.  And he didn’t seem too displeased with his redecorating.  Tony, on the other hand…  “This is what, Rogers.  Your little terror here made my robot look like _Transformers_ meets _My Little Pony_.”

Steve lost it a little with that.  He schooled his expression against an unwitting grin, pressing his lips together in a laughable attempt at a frown.  Tony really was angry, scowling and red in the face, so he had to be stern.  “Sarah…” he said, going over to pick her up off the floor where she was still obliviously improving DUM-E’s appearance.  “Stop.  I told you to sit at the table and wait.”  DUM-E actually chirped unhappily when Steve scooped her and the offending sticker book off the floor.  The robot waved his arm like he was waving goodbye.

Tony’s eye twitched as he beheld the mess.  “This is the reason some species eat their young,” he muttered, reaching for one of the stickers and trying to peel it off.  “And you.  What’s your excuse?  I know you’re as guilty as she is.”  DUM-E chirped again, bobbing his arm like he was nodding.  Tony huffed, peeling off more of the mess.  “She colored his servos.  Steve, there’s crayon in there!”

Steve winced.  “Sorry.  Fury called and I…”  Tony waved him off, so he didn’t finish.  He did feel guilty; he shouldn’t have left Sarah alone, but he thought Tony was watching her.  Apparently Tony thought he was.  And apparently DUM-E had been left to babysit.  Not his finest moment in parenting.  “I’ll clean it,” he offered.

“Eh.”

“Sarah, tell Uncle Tony you’re sorry,” Steve said crossly, setting her on her feet so she could apologize.

She didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong, but in a typical overly dramatic fashion, the minute Tony shot her a disapproving glance she broke down in huge tears.  Tony’s angry visage disappeared instantly, and he knelt, opening his arms.  “Oh, come ’ere, darling.  It’s alright.  I’m not that mad.”  She ran toward him, flinging herself against his chest.  Steve rolled his eyes a little.  _Eating their young.  Right.  I think that’s the other way around._   Steve’s phone beeped in his pocket, and he checked it while Sarah and Tony proceeded to work on the sticker removal.  It was the mission reports Fury wanted him to look over.  He didn’t know why he kept agreeing to do this.  These weren’t his reports.  They weren’t even concerning missions he’d been assigned to oversee.  Somehow during the last few months he’d been relegated to being SHIELD’s unofficial secretary, proofreading and conscientiously inspecting other people’s work before signing off on it and filing it.  As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Tony was right; all the administrative busywork was being unceremoniously dumped on him.  He hadn’t minded it so much at first, but it was getting rather frustrating now.  And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he was starting to suspect people around HQ and the Triskelion were dismissing him, if not outright making fun of him behind his back.  Before other agents and techs had been too afraid to tease or ridicule him, and Steve’s presence in the command center’s had been, well, _commanding._   But he wasn’t being called in much lately, and the rumors were flying as to why.  Steve didn’t know why himself.  Of course, he hadn’t found it within himself to ask, a little afraid of what the answer could be.  Like this was it, the day Fury was finally dispensing with this farce that he could still be useful.

He decided not to think that right now.  He thumbed the email away, having JARVIS copy it to his portion of the Tower’s massive file server.  Then he checked the time.  “We need to get going, Sarah, or we’re going to be late.”

Tony looked up, somewhat surprised.  “Where are you two off to?”

“Park!” Sarah replied cheerily, readily abandoning her cleaning efforts and running back to the table to get her little backpack and all her things.

“Park,” Steve agreed.  “Then lunch.”

“Lunch?  As in an actual restaurant?”

Steve rolled his eyes a little.  “ _Yes_ , as in an actual restaurant.  With actual other people.”

Tony did a poor job of hiding his relief.  “Wow.  This is big.”

It was, if Steve did say so himself.  He didn’t know what had spurned him to do this today.  Well, his meeting this afternoon had something to do with it, but he’d woken up and randomly decided that he and Sarah would go out and have a fun day by themselves.  It was warm and sunny.  All the other Avengers were busy with their own schedules today.  Sitting around the Tower alone wasn’t overly appealing, not when it was so nice out.  “We have to meet with the preschool people at one.”

Tony stood up and walked over to the trash, grimacing as he picked the stickers off his fingers and shirt.  “Did someone come in during the night and swap out the old you with this new you?  Or did I just scare you into submission?”

“I gonna go to school, Unca Tony!” Sarah shouted.  She was struggling with getting her little backpack on, so Steve helped her.  Then she ran to the door of the lab.

“And this is actual Steve Rogers going to enroll his daughter?  Or are you making something else up?  I know Pepper said she would–”

“Sir, we have some visitors from SHIELD.”  JARVIS’ calm tone echoed through the cluttered workshop.  “They would like permission to come up from the lobby.”

Tony grimaced like he was considering turning whoever this was away.  He probably was.  “This something for you?” he asked Steve suspiciously.

Steve shrugged and shook his head.  “Not me.”

Visitors from SHIELD never sat well with Tony.  He still didn’t trust the intelligence organization, especially after what had happened with Sarah when she’d been born.  He begrudgingly listened to Fury, but Steve was fairly certain he only did that for the team’s (and Steve’s) sake.  Honestly, Steve still had his doubts about SHIELD as well or at least concerns about their end game.  About the truth that was buried under all the rhetoric and bureaucracy and lofty ideals.  SHIELD doctors and researchers had taken samples of his blood, taken them when he’d been too weak from the ice to consent.  They’d allowed those samples to be stolen.  And then they’d tried to take Sarah from him after they’d discovered her.  That was wrong on so many levels.  Tony had repeatedly suggested in the past that Steve should cut ties with them, that they’d proven themselves to be completely unworthy of Steve’s time and effort (and loyalty), and Steve had truly considered it a few times.  Still, Natasha and Clint were SHIELD agents, and while they didn’t blindly follow orders, they maintained serious professional and personal relationships with the institution and those in it.  And, while Tony maintained otherwise, the Avengers answered (at least somewhat) to SHIELD.  Breaking that bond wasn’t so easy.

Tony sighed.  “Would it be rude to ignore them?”

“Tony,” Steve chided, and JARVIS didn’t even bother answering his question, which was an answer in and of itself.

“Send them up, J.  If you have to.  I guess.”  Steve walked toward the door to join Sarah, who was not so patiently waiting.  “Oh, no, Cap.  You stay.  If I have to have my morning ruined by SHIELD, then you have to, too.”

Steve stopped and sighed at Tony.  “We’ll be late.”

“Then be late,” Tony said, not at all above being childish and petulant.  He whipped his hand back and forth irately, trying to fling the stickers still stuck to his fingers off.  They fluttered down to adhere to his shirt, and he grunted a muffled expletive over which Steve glared at him before abandoning the mess and heading back to his workbench.  “I need you to run interference.  You’re good at that.  Plus the squirt gives me an excuse to cut this short if it’s a bunch of BS, which it will be.”  Tony didn’t even look up from whatever he was throwing together as an excuse to be distracted.  “And you owe me.  For the mess.”

Steve rolled his eyes yet again, dropping his hand from the glass doors that led out to the hallway.  He sighed and looked down at Sarah.  “Just a minute,” he said.  “Go sit back down at the table.”

“Daddy…”  She whined, and he could see the tell-tale signs of more waterworks.

“Just sit for a minute.  Then we’ll go.  I’ll get you some juice, okay?”

She nodded and dejectedly walked back to the table, practically dragging her new puppy and all of her stuff behind her.  Steve made sure she sat before going to the refrigerator on the other side of the workshop and pulling out a juice box.  Tony tended to stock every fridge in the Tower with things for Sarah now, and it was always a bit weird seeing juice boxes and little milk jugs covered in cartoon characters next to his energy drinks and soda.  Steve opened the juice box for her and set it on the table.  He reached into her backpack and got her crayons and coloring book out.  She was still mostly scribbling, but he was starting to see some shapes and distinct things in her work.  She liked to mimic him when he sketched, which he secretly found so touching, and her playroom in his suite and on the common floor was covered with her artwork.  She wasn’t too happy about the change of plans right now though, frowning with teary eyes.  “Just a minute,” he said again.

There was a knock outside the workshop.  Steve turned to see a young man out there with black hair dressed in a nice black suit with a crisp white dress shirt.  With him was another man, older, who had thinning brown hair that formed a rather severe widow’s peak above his brow.  He was dressed more casually, in dark jeans and a standard black SHIELD-issue field jacket.  He looked friendly, smiling with slightly crooked teeth.  “Mr. Stark,” he called.  “Mind if we come in?”

Tony was putting some visible effort into agreeing.  As much as Steve was accustomed to his theatrics, he wished he’d just get on with it.  He’d really wanted to take Sarah out and have enough time to play and eat and not feel rushed.  “Yeah.  Sure.”

JARVIS unlocked the workshop doors, and the two SHIELD agents walked in.  Now that they were closer, Steve realized he recognized one of them.  Surprise rushed over him, surprise tinged with wariness.  “Agent Ward, right?” he said, coming closer with narrow eyes and a brow furrowed in confusion.

The younger man nodded, pursing his lips a bit before smiling.  He held his hand out to Steve.  “Captain Rogers.  Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Steve said, shaking the other man’s hand.  His grip was strong, sure, confident, but there was something… off about him.  He’d noticed that the first time he’d met Ward as well, back in the infirmary on the helicarrier when SHIELD had rescued Sarah.  Like he was little too at ease, a little too friendly.  Not that it was forced necessarily, but just that it wasn’t the whole story.  And what was he doing here?  The last time he had seen him had been almost exactly three years ago.  Suddenly things he hadn’t thought about in a while came right to the forefront of his mind.  So little of Sarah’s birth was known to him or to anyone, it seemed.  An Agent Melinda May had brought the newborn to the helicarrier, having found her in a mysterious enemy lab her team had been investigating concerning some kidnappings of other children.  Despite Clint’s and Natasha’s best efforts, they’d never found out anything about May’s team.  And Tony and Bruce had never discovered anything more about how Sarah was born, _who_ her mother was.  So he’d mostly forgotten about it because there’d been no choice and no sense on dwelling on questions he couldn’t answer.

 Was this a coincidence?  He was still turning that alarmed thought over in his head while Ward went through introductions.  “This is Agent John Garrett.  John, Captain Rogers.”

Garrett put his hand forward, and Steve shook it.  “It’s truly an honor, Captain.”

Steve nodded.  “Pleasure’s mine.”  Garrett he’d heard of before, though he hadn’t met him until now.  The man was well-regarded in the upper echelons of SHIELD as a capable agent and field commander.  He’d apparently trained under Fury at some point, and he’d been partnered with the late Phil Coulson once or twice.  He was calm, level-headed, and gregarious.  “I’m sure you know Mr. Stark.”

“Also an honor,” Garrett said, shaking Tony’s more reluctant hand.  “You have no idea how important what you guys do is to SHIELD, to the whole world, really.”  He definitely had something of a southern twang to his voice, an accent that had been long covered and trained away but still stubbornly persisted.  He was offering a friendly, off-putting smile.  He looked around and caught sight of Sarah sitting at the table.  She hadn’t started coloring, at least not much, and was instead staring at the newcomers.  Garrett smiled, stepping past Steve.  He kept his distance, dropping gingerly and slowly to a crouch in front of her.  “And you must be Sarah.  Well, you’re just the cutest thing.”

She was out of her chair and running for Steve’s leg like a bullet out of a gun.  Grasping his khaki shorts, she clung to him and hid behind him.  Steve set his hand comfortingly to her head.  “She’s shy around people she doesn’t know.”  Apparently, anyway.  She never used to be.  But kids went in and out of phases, or so he was learning.  “What can we do for you?”

“Actually, we’re here for a couple of reasons.  First, Director Fury asked me to consult with you, Mr. Stark, if you don’t mind.  It doesn’t have to be today,” Garrett said, rising to his full height again and stepping away from Sarah and Steve.

“Consult on what?” Tony asked warily, trading his weight from one leg to the other and folding his arms across his chest.  “And this is outside my normal consulting hours.  Fury knows that.”

Garrett laughed.  “Yeah, he mentioned something about that.  He also said you’d be more likely to go along with this if I went in person, so here I am.  And he told me my chances would increase if Captain Rogers was present, so I guess I’m in luck.”

Tony smiled, but Steve could see it was strained.  “Well, that would depend on what it is you want me to do.”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious.  Have you heard about the Centipede program?” Garrett asked.  Tony glanced at Steve before shaking his head.

Steve had heard of it.  He’d seen a few intelligence reports on the program over the last few weeks.  It had been a situation brewing over the last several months.  “This is the failed super soldier serum?” he asked.  “I thought that SHIELD shut it down.”

Tony was a mixture of concerned and affronted that he wasn’t in the know.  “A failed super soldier serum?” he said.  “No offense, but that sounds pretty serious.”

“Quinn International, which I’m sure you’ve heard of–”

Tony grunted in disgust.  “Don’t talk to me about that pretentious wannabe.”

Garrett smiled.  “They were trying to develop some sort of new serum to create soldiers.  Their version of a super soldier doesn’t really compare to ours–”  He glanced proudly at Steve.  “–but it’s a serious enough threat that we needed to stop them.  SHIELD ferretted this out a few months ago and we’ve been slowly shutting down their labs since then.  They’ve had some minor connections to AIM, and a few of their hyped-up thugs have been causing isolated incidents across the globe, but nothing serious has really come of it.  The serum requires a constant infusion through a device on the arm or spine that sort of resembles a centipede, hence the name.  It had some serious flaws, mostly because it’s based on Extremis.”

Tony didn’t look pleased with that.  “Extremis?”

Garrett winced in sympathy.  “Yeah.  So the unfortunate volunteers for their program seem to have a problem with spontaneous combustion, as well as aggression.  You know better than anyone what Extremis can do.  We’ve had the eggheads down at the Sandbox chewing on this one, trying to figure out exactly what’s in their secret concoction.  Our latest reports indicate that Quinn’s scientists are trying to fix it.  We don’t think they’ll be successful, but in case they are, we want a head start on disabling Centipede if it ever comes to a fight.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip into the table.  “SHIELD has a whole slew of scientists who specialize in this sort of thing.  Have them work on it.”  He flashed a smug smile.  “Consultants just consult, you know.”

Garrett wasn’t insulted or bothered by Tony’s attitude.  This guy seemed to be a really cool customer.  “And that’s all Fury wants from you, Mr. Stark.  You’re the only one who’s been able to stabilize Extremis.  You did it for Ms. Potts, right?”  Steve knew Tony well enough to see that that comment wasn’t entirely welcomed, that this whole topic wasn’t something he wanted to discuss.  What had happened to Pepper at the hands of the Mandarin more than three years ago still bothered him, even if he had managed to “cure” her of the Extremis Aldritch Killian and his henchmen had injected into her body.  To Steve’s understanding, Extremis was still a part of her, but it had been rendered inert.  She had no enhanced strength, speed, or regeneration, but, on the flip side, she wasn’t in any danger of exploding or going on a psychotic rampage.  Steve thought he’d heard Bruce and Tony discuss it once, claiming Extremis was fundamentally flawed.  It would never work the way it was meant to.  Obviously the bad guys of the world hadn’t figured that out yet.

Garrett realized he was treading on thin ice and smiled disarmingly.  “He just wants you to examine what he know of the serum and offer up your two cents.  If you can find a way to shut down the Extremis portion of it, deal with the spontaneously combusting part…  Well, we’d feel a lot better about the possibility of these monsters getting loose if we could hit them with something to neutralize the bomb, so to speak.  Everything we have now is a temporary deterrent.”

Tony glanced at Steve.  The workshop was quiet as he looked between the two agents and Steve, like he was judging the merits of helping.  Steve had just been catching a bit of this saga, gleaning details from the occasional mission report and the rumor mill that ran fairly rampant through SHIELD.  It didn’t seem like the sort of thing that really required the intervention of the Avengers, but if Fury was trying to get Tony involved…  _Then again, he could have asked me.  Or called._   Which meant it either wasn’t that important or Fury was up to something.

After the silent moment, Tony sighed.  “Alright.  You got the data?”

“Sure do.”  Garrett wasn’t doing much to hide his relief.  He reached inside his jacket and fished out a USB stick.  “I can’t tell you how much we – and that includes Director Fury – how much we appreciate this.  And if Doctor Banner should want to look it over too, well, I wouldn’t stop him.”

Tony still didn’t look sure, staring at the USB drive, but eventually he took it.  He tapped it against the thumb of his opposite hand.  “You tell Fury he owes me for this.”

Garrett nodded.  “Will do, Mr. Stark.”

“Give me a rundown,” Tony commanded.  “Quickly.”

As much as Steve was interested in hearing more about the story, that wasn’t what he was doing today.  Helping with this wasn’t going to be at the expense of his plans.  That was the point of this, right?  Switching off and concentrating on something other than work and keeping Sarah safe?  “Go get your stuff,” he told Sarah quietly, and she ran to collect her belongings.  “Tony, I gotta run.”  Tony wasn’t wholly pleased with that, but he nodded and waved Steve away.

Steve went to help Sarah with her backpack before heading to the door.  Ward took a few long, quick steps to catch them.  “Hold on, Captain Rogers.  Let me get that for you.”  Steve certainly didn’t need anyone opening doors for him, but Ward was already doing it.  He smiled, but it still seemed rather humorless.  “Mind if I walk with you?”

He did a bit.  But he smiled and shook his head.  Sarah walked on Steve’s other side away from Ward, her tiny hand tight in his.  Steve ignored the feeling of foreboding in his gut.  Again, he couldn’t help but wonder at the seeming spontaneity of this.  What was Ward doing here?  Why now, after three years?  It couldn’t be a coincidence that this guy, of all the hundreds of SHIELD agents in the organization, had come today.  Ward seemed to sense his unease, stiff and uncomfortable himself.  Steve beat him to the punch.  “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I get the impression there’s something you want to say to me.”  Steve dropped his tone to a level he was fairly certain his daughter couldn’t hear.  “And if it involves… when we met the first time, I’d appreciate it if you not talk about it in front of Sarah.”

Ward nodded.  “I understand why you feel that way, sir, but it doesn’t.  I wish it did.  Believe me when I tell you our team has never stopped trying to find more information.”  That was surprising.  And a little disturbing.  Was there more information to be found?  And, again, _who_ was this team?  Steve was unsettled and suspicious, even though he figured he probably shouldn’t be.  These people, whoever they were, had saved Sarah and brought her to SHIELD.  He owed them for that.  _But why all the secrecy?_ “No, I’m here to…”  Ward actually flushed a little.  “Yeah, this is as stupid as it sounded when Fury asked me.  He wanted me to check in on you.”

Check in?  “Come again?”

“Director Fury is concerned, and maybe rightly so, that the people working for Quinn might come after you in order to secure a sample of the super soldier serum.  The researchers at the Sandbox are fairly certain, knowing what they do of the serum, that it could fix the Centipede program.  Director Fury wanted me to approach you about it, make sure you’re aware of the possibility.  I’m familiar with the case; I’ve been working it these last couple of months, so I can keep you appraised of developments.”  Ward released a long breath, stepping closer.  “I don’t think it’s likely they’ll attempt anything, Captain.  These guys are pretty small game and for them to try and go after an Avenger?”  He shook his head.  “They’re not that stupid.”

Steve wasn’t sure how to take this.  He spoke even quieter so Sarah wouldn’t be able to hear.  “Wait a minute…  So what are you saying?  I’m in some kind of danger?”

Ward shook his head again with a jerk, his eyes widening at an unwanted conclusion.  “No, I don’t think so.  SHIELD has classified this threat as low, so it’s about on par with every other crazy wacko out there making idle threats about destroying the Avengers or world take-over.  But Director Fury wanted me to make certain you knew about it.”  Steve thought he kept his expression calm, but obviously Ward detected his concern.  “I’m sure if it was something serious, Fury would have come down here himself to warn you.  I really wouldn’t worry.”

He wasn’t worried for himself.  He’d faced danger far worse than this before.  But he was worried for Sarah.  Still, this was what life was.  The choice he’d made.  He nodded.  “Alright.  Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem.  And if you get a chance to look at the case files…  They’re on the mainframe back at HQ.  I’d really appreciate any input you have.  These guys may not be terribly smart, but there are a lot of them.  And you’re one of the best tactical and logistical minds we have.”

Steve nodded.  “Sure.”

Ward smiled gratefully.  Nothing he said or did ever seemed to reach his eyes.  Steve didn’t know if it was because he was that closed off or if he was maybe damaged somehow.  Or if he wasn’t being entirely truthful.  He’d seen looks like this before on other SHIELD agents and on Natasha and Clint sometimes.  It had bothered him more in the beginning when the team had been learning to function together.  He was used to the simple trust and camaraderie among soldiers, where everyone fought as a unit, so not being able to read the SHIELD agents had been distressing, particularly in the field.  Now he trusted them with his life and the life of his daughter.

“It’s nice to see her flourishing.”  Ward’s soft comment drew his attention and he found the other man staring at Sarah as she looked up at them both, holding Steve’s hand tight.  “I was the one who…  Well.”  He stopped himself and smiled.  What he was trying to say was clear, that he’d been the one to find Sarah in the lab, but out of respect for Steve’s wishes, he wasn’t going to actually say it.  “It’s nice to see this all worked out so well.”

“Thank you,” he said, and not simply for the compliment.  If Ward had been the one to pull Sarah out of that place, then Steve owed him for more than he could ever repay.

Ward nodded.  This time his smile seemed more sincere.  “Anyway,” he said, gesturing to the elevator, “sorry to hold you up.”

“It’s alright,” Steve assured.  “We were just headed to Bryant Park for a little while.  Trying to take a break, you know, get out and enjoy the end of summer.  Too nice a day to spend it inside.”

“You got that right,” Ward said with a little laugh.  “Then I won’t keep you any longer.  Should probably get back to John anyway before he talks Mr. Stark out of helping us.”  Steve couldn’t help but notice the touch of familiarity in Ward’s voice concerning Garrett.  He didn’t comment on it, though.  “Thanks again, Captain.”  Ward held his hand out.

“My pleasure,” Steve said, shaking his hand.  Ward offered a final, more serious grin before turning and heading back to Tony’s workshop.  Steve watched him go.

“Daddy,” Sarah softly called, pulling on his hand a little.  “Who was that?”

Steve thought of how differently things could have gone if Ward hadn’t found Sarah, if he and Agent May hadn’t violated SHIELD protocols to bring her back to the helicarrier instead of directly to the Sandbox for testing and observation, if he and that girl, Skye, hadn’t shown up to offer words of support when Steve had been struggling with the decision to take Sarah home…  Skye’s words filled his head anew.  _“Growing up without parents is tough.  It defines you in ways I don’t think other people can understand.  So the fact that you’re doing this for her…  It’s comforting.  I’m glad she has you.”_

“Daddy?”

“Someone we owe for everything we’ve got,” he answered, focusing his once distant gaze on Sarah.  She didn’t understand that, of course, but before she could question him further, he smiled and tugged her inside the waiting elevator.  “Come on.  It’s time for the park, right?”

“Yay!”

He laughed and lifted her one handed up into his arms as JARVIS took them down.

* * *

Beautiful didn’t begin to describe the day.  The sky was brightly blue and brimming with fluffy white clouds that provided just enough shade from the sun.  There was a pleasant breeze as well which further ameliorated the heat.  The trees in Bryant Park were lushly green; it had been a fairly wet summer, so the dryness typically associated with the end of August hadn’t much impacted the foliage.  The leaves were singing in the slight wind, and the lawn of the park was filled with people enjoying the weather on one of the last lazy days of vacation before school started again in a week or two.  It was a sizeable crowd, the grass fairly well covered in picnickers and pedestrians, and while that number of people usually unnerved him, right now he figured it would just help them blend in.  Nobody would notice him.  Without his uniform and his shield, he was just another dad taking his young daughter out for a nice day.

Sarah gallivanted in front of him, jumping up and down with her stuff in excitement.  He sprinted after her, making an effort to pretend that he couldn’t outpace her (well, her and basically anyone else there).  He let her run him around.  Then they wrestled and played in the grass for a while with her toys.  It was nice, even if the things Agent Ward had told him were like a niggling voice in the back of his mind that had him keeping a fraction of his attention on his surroundings.  He laid in the grass on his back, Sarah climbing on him, and watched the clouds overhead for a while as they drifted across the sky.  He taught her how to imagine they looked like things, critters and shapes and such, and of course everything resembled the animals she’d seen at the zoo.  She talked about them repetitiously, the way she always did when she got excited.  He listened and answered with a bunch of “uh-huh”’s and “I know, baby”’s.  It was hard to get a word in edge-wise when Sarah really got going, so he just let her go, enjoying the sound of her voice so steeped in enthusiasm and happiness even if he couldn’t follow exactly what she was saying.  And he watched the park, surreptitiously searching for threats, for people who stared too long or moved too close or whose movements seemed too deliberate or too random.  But there was nothing, of course.  His paranoia was getting the better of him.

Maybe an hour later, they walked through the park in search of lunch.  There was a nice bistro type place a block or so away, so Steve was thinking about going there.  Just as they were about to leave, though, Sarah caught sight of the dog park.  And, just like that, she was off.  “Sarah!” Steve yelled as she ran away from him and headed straight to the fenced in area near a group of trees.  Steve’s heart leapt in horror as she wove through the heavy throng of people passing by.  He jerked forward, barely remembering to restrain himself and _not show_ how strong and fast he was.  Panic churned miserably in her stomach.  “Sarah!  Sarah, no!”  He tended to forget that she was fast, too, and surprisingly nimble for being so little.  He wasn’t going to be able to reach her before she got there, not unless he shoved people out of his way, and he was almost riled and frantic enough to do that.  “Stop!  _Sarah!”_

Just as she was about to bolt into the dog park, someone with a purple leash in hand caught her at the fence.  Steve gritted his teeth in a mixture of horror, relief, and embarrassment, skidding to a crouch in front of his daughter.  He grabbed her arms tightly, not harshly, and pulled her firmly to him.  “You never do that again,” he ordered sternly.  A thousand worries and terrors stampeded across his head, and the rush of his pounding heart nearly left him shaking in a cold sweat.  “Never run off like that!  Never!  You could have gotten lost!  Someone could have – you nearly ran this lady over–”

“It’s alright,” a familiar voice said.

Steve looked up from Sarah’s teary eyes.  Then he stood, his panic and anger completely forgotten.  “Oh.  _Oh._   Hi!  I, uh…  Wow.  Sorry.”

Mandy smiled.  She, too, seemed surprised and a bit sheepish.  “Oh, no.  It’s fine.  She didn’t hurt me.  Well, of course she didn’t.”  In the week since Sarah’s birthday, he’d completely forgotten about her.  She was…  _Wow._   Her cheeks colored with a blush, her skin practically glowing with a thin, shimmering sheen of perspiration.  Her shorts were cut across her thighs, not too high but enough to show off shapely legs that tapered into running shoes.  She wore a few tanks layered on top of each other, the outermost one black.  Her dark hair was messily and loosely swept into a thick pony tail, which she tried in vain to straighten.  Steve just stared at her, struck again by how beautiful she was.  Clear blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight.  Her high cheek bones should have added severity to her face, but she smiled so easily that all they did was make her features seem finer, more distinguished.  Regal, almost.

And still familiar.  He couldn’t place it.  “Have we met before?”

The dumb question was out of his mouth before he thought better of it.  She smiled, not deprecatingly at all, but airily amused.  “Yes, we have,” she said with a bit of a sly smile.

“No, I mean – I wanted to ask you at the party, but I just…” Steve stammered.  He grabbed Sarah by her shoulders and kept her close to his legs.  “You seem really familiar to me.”

She tossed her head a little, very clearly flattered by that.  Something nudged Steve in the rear, causing him to step forward a little, but he couldn’t really pay much attention to it.  He was too entranced.  That was a stupid thing to be, but he was.  She finally managed a response.  “Well, you’re Captain America.  And I can safely say that I’m a nobody, so chances aren’t good that we’ve met before.”

“You’re not a nobody.  You just saved my daughter from running off into a park full of loose dogs.  I think that means I owe you something.”  Those words were out before he could stop himself, too.  He flushed with embarrassment.  How in the world could he still be so stupidly hopeless with women?  “Like a cup of coffee?”

Mandy’s face loosened into an expression of surprise and then unabashed _interest._   She was still floundering for some sort of answer when Sarah chimed in.  “Can I pet the puppy?”

That seemed to give Mandy something on which to focus, and she finally managed to tear her wide eyes away from Steve’s face.  She looked down at Sarah, gathering her composure in one fluid motion.  Steve’s useless brain realized the thing nudging him was Mandy’s dog, a black lab of some sort, and he and Sarah were rather tangled up in the leash.  “Oh, for crying out…”  Mandy worked quickly to get the leash free of them and pull the dog back.  “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve assured.  He lifted Sarah free and stepped out of the confines of the leash.  “Don’t worry about it.”

The moment Sarah’s feet hit the sidewalk, she was tugging on Steve’s hand again, her earlier malfeasance apparently forgotten by them both.  “Daddy?  Daddy, can I pet the puppy?  Please?”

Steve collected his brain enough to answer.  “You need to ask Mandy.  It’s her dog.”

Mandy dropped smoothly to a crouch, her hand secure around the dog’s color.  It seemed like a young one, with a large, flapping tongue and large paws that suggested more growth was imminent.  The dog was surprisingly sedate, well-trained despite all the activity around them and the bubbling toddler just aching to pet it, but, then, Mandy was a zookeeper.  Steve supposed it was only natural.  “It’s okay with you?” Mandy asked, looking back up at Steve.  He nodded.  “Here, Sarah.  This is Winston.  He’s still just a baby.  Only six months old.”

“I wazza baby,” Sarah said.  She set her small hand to Winston’s sleek, sable fur.  The dog got more excited, wriggling in Mandy’s capable grasp, trying to lick Sarah’s face.  Mandy held him back from coating her completely in slobber.  “Now I’s a big girl.  I’m three.  When’s her birthday?”

“February,” Mandy replied.  “And you are a big girl.  I was at your party, remember?”

Sarah nodded enthusiastically, petting the dog more vigorously now.  “Uh-huh.”

Seeing Winston happy and Sarah just as much if not more so, Mandy stood again, still being careful to hold the puppy back.   She pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear, smiling nervously at Steve.  “I think I’m having an aneurysm or something…  Did you ask me to get a cup of coffee with you?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to flush, and he did in earnest.  He prayed it didn’t show as hot as it felt.  Maybe that had been too forward?  She was smiling, and her eyes were twinkling, so he was willing to bet it was okay.  At least, he was confident enough to ask again.  “I did.  Would you like to?”

“This is crazy…” she breathed.  “You’re…”  She bit her lower lip, wrinkling her nose a little in disappointment.  “I would absolutely love to, but I can’t right now.  I need to be at work in an hour.”  That reminded Steve that he and Sarah were supposed to be at the school shortly as well.  They needed to get moving if they were going to have time to eat.  He felt so flustered by the sheer fact that this was happening that he didn’t hear her next words at first.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but…  I don’t know.  Go with it, right?  You want to get dinner sometime?”  She blushed furiously, like she had _no_ idea how attractive she was and how attracted _he was_ to her.  “Just… tell me if I’m completely out of my league.  It’s cool.  I can handle rejection.”

“No.  No, no.”  He sounded over-eager to his own ears, and just a tad desperate, but she only looked relieved.  He smiled, surprised that it had come to this so quickly.  But he hesitated a moment, not because he didn’t want to go with her, but because this felt rather monumental.  _Stop,_ chided his thoughts.  _Stop making more out of it than what it is.  Go out and have fun.  It’s a date._   “I, um…  Yeah.  Sure.  I’d like that.”

Mandy looked like she wanted to faint.  There was an awkward moment of silence between them, one bubbling over with nervousness and newfound excitement and their tentative connection.  Winston was busy tangling himself up around her legs with her distraction, and she whirled clumsily, trying to get herself loose.  “Great.  Wow.  Alright.  You want me to call you?  Or…  No, you’re Captain America.  I can’t just call you… can I?”

He laughed a little.  “You could,” he said, “but it might be easier for me to call you.  Hey.”  That made her look at him more directly.  He smiled disarmingly.  “You don’t have to be hung up about the whole Captain America thing.  No shield.  No Avengers.  I’m just Steve.”

Her eyes appreciatively went up and down his body like she couldn’t help herself.  “Uh, of course, you are.  I mean, you are!  God, just put me out of my misery…”

He laughed more, her embarrassed blush stroking his ego (just a little).  He wasn’t blind to how he looked now; he knew he had things (if he believed the internet, a _whole lot_ of things) going for him.  But part of him would always feel like small, skinny Steve from Brooklyn who couldn’t get a dame to look his way if his life depended on it.  It felt good to be confident(ish).  “I’ll call you, if that’s okay.  What’s your number?”  She fumbled in her pockets for something.  He thought her phone, but she pulled a pen and a little notebook out of her shorts.  It was strangely archaic in this day and age and oddly appealing.  “No, you don’t need to write it down.  Just tell me.  I’ll remember.”

She looked doubtful.  “You sure?”  Steve shrugged, grinning softly.  “Oh.  Right.  It’s 212-555-4907.”

“Got it.”

That dazzling smile returned to her face.  She was stunning.  “Okay.  Great.  So, um, I’ll talk to you later?”

He nodded.  “Thanks for catching Sarah,” he said at the last second, realizing he hadn’t even done that.

“Oh, it was nothing.  Right, Winston?”  Winston wagged his tail happily, leaving Sarah to lick at Mandy’s hands and face as she crouched by him again.  She readjusted the leash so that there was less length to it.  “Say goodbye to Sarah.”

Sarah didn’t seem to want to, so attached to the dog already, but she finished petting him, running a final hand down the dog’s back.  “Bye,” she said.

“Bye, sweetie,” Mandy returned.  She smiled nervously at Steve.  “Bye.”

“Bye.”

She was off in a brisk walk, Winston loping along beside her.  Once or twice she made an abortive glance over her shoulder, like she was checking if he was really there, like she was making sure she hadn’t imagined or dreamed this.  Steve watched until he couldn’t pick her out from the crowd anymore.  He must have drifted in his thoughts a moment, the excitement of the whole thing dazing him, because it took Sarah tugging his hand for him to gather his thoughts.  “Can we get a puppy like that?” she asked brightly.

Steve looked at her sternly, remembering anew what she’d nearly done.  “Don’t push it,” he warned.  “Come on.  Let’s get something to eat.”

* * *

Later that evening, Steve was making dinner.  The Tower was mostly empty.  Clint and Natasha were both gone on some errand or mission for SHIELD.  Thor was away with Jane.  Bruce was busy with his work; apparently he had a conference or something to which he was submitting some of his recent findings, so he was studiously preparing a paper on them.  Steve had thought for a moment it might just be Sarah and him eating alone, but then Tony emerged from his workshop, covered in engine grease and on the prowl for food.  “What’re you making?”

“Lasagna,” Steve returned from in front of the stove.  “New recipe.”

“Tell me it has meat and cheese and I’m there.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Yes, it has meat and cheese.”

“How much?”

“How much do you think?”

“Sweet.  Did you call Pepper?”

“Didn’t know she was back,” Steve replied as he put his tray of lasagna in the oven.  Pepper had flown to Malibu yesterday to take care of some pressing business out there.

“JARVIS, tell Pepper to come down for dinner,” Tony ordered.  “I’m gonna take a shower.”  He turned and headed out of the kitchen, pausing to talk to Sarah where she sat and colored and watched a movie.  She wanted to run to him, but Tony told her no, not until he cleaned up so he didn’t mess up her clothes (never mind that Steve was pretty sure there was paint and ice cream on her shirt).  Steve paused, watching Tony talk to Sarah, thinking about the day he’d had and the dinner he’d made, and wondered when it was that they’d all become so… _domestic._   It was a contradiction, this life he led now.  He missed things as they had been sometimes.  The adrenaline of fighting, of living in a blur, of doing _good_ outside this little world.  That cold, hard measure of utility.  Missions accomplished.  Bad guys stopped and locked up.  Innocents saved.  Now it was a moment every once in a while when the Avengers assembled, when SHIELD really needed him, and he had to measure things differently.  Even if it had come unconventionally, this was what he’d always wanted: a family.  But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t sometimes want to _do_ more than cooking and parenting and filing paperwork.

He thought about what Agent Ward had said about needing his help on this Centipede project.  “Did you look over the data those SHIELD agents brought?” he asked Tony.

Tony shrugged on his way out to the hallway.  “More or less.  We can talk about it in a minute if you want.  Shower.”

Thirty minutes later, the four of them were gathered around the table, the steaming tray of lasagna cooling in the center.  Pepper looked relaxed, which was nice considering how stressed she’d been before she left.  She was dressed in shorts and a white blouse with her hair loose and her make-up light.  Tony was freshly cleaned but dressed like a bum in an old, ratty t-shirt with some band’s logo splayed on it and ripped pants.  He was pouring himself, his wife, and Steve glasses of wine.  Steve filled Sarah’s plate with a little salad and bread.  Before he could even press Tony about the data from SHIELD, though, Pepper was asking Sarah and him about the school.  She was so relieved and thrilled (and not putting much effort into hiding it) that Steve had decided to visit the one she’d picked out.  Sarah excitedly explained all the things she did and saw there.  Steve told her the school seemed very nice, with a small class and a pleasant, older lady running things.  If they were at all shocked or wary about taking Captain America’s daughter into their midst, they didn’t show it.

Sarah went on about the rest of their day, and Steve didn’t think much of it, serving the lasagna, letting his thoughts drift a little.  At least until Sarah mentioned who they’d run into at the dog park.  “And she’s got a puppy!  He was black and soft.  He licked me.  Daddy said we can get one like that.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony said, pausing in shoveling lasagna into his mouth.  “You ran into the girl from the zoo?”

Steve tried to keep his face impassive.  The _last_ thing he wanted right now was ribbing from Tony.  “Yeah.  What a coincidence,” he deadpanned.

“I’ll say.  What was she like?  Still drop-dead gorgeous?”  Pepper must have kicked him under the table or something.  “Ow.  What?  She was.  Not that I noticed.”

Steve smiled faintly, cutting into his meal.  There was no sense in hiding this, even if he didn’t want to deal with the inquisition (or the embarrassment).  If there was one thing he’d learned over the last few years living with two master spies and Tony Stark, there were no such things as secrets in Stark Tower.  “She wants to go out with me,” he declared, surprising himself with how matter-of-fact his voice sounded.  He glanced up from his plate to see Tony and Pepper gaping at him.  When they’d collected themselves enough to think, they shared a knowing look.  “What?”

“Nothing,” Pepper said with a sweet smile.  “Nothing at all.”

“Whaddya tell her?” Tony asked.

Steve shrugged, trying not to seem as nervous as he felt about it all.  “That I’d call her.”

 _Here we go…_ “When?”

“I don’t know.  Soon, I guess,” Steve replied.  That earned him another look.  This time he wasn’t going to stand for it.  “Guys…”

“Look, Steve…” Pepper started in her “we want what’s best for you” voice.  He’d been hearing that one a lot lately.  She seemed to lose her nerve, like she was realizing that, too.  She set her fork down with a sigh and a feeble smile.  “We’re not trying to pry or force you to do anything you don’t want to do–”

Steve was annoyed enough to strike back a little.  “Funny.  I seem to recall a certain someone at this table threatening me with an ultimatum.  Date, or face the wrath of–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony said.  He glanced at Pepper, white in the face.  The table was silent while she gave Tony a questioning look that slowly but surely turned into a disproving look.  Steve couldn’t help but enjoy the moment.  “I didn’t do it,” he quickly stammered.

She sighed, long-suffering, and turned back to Steve.  “You don’t need to feel pressured.  But it’s like I said before: I…”  She glanced at Tony again, who was still grinning sheepishly.  “ _We_ worry about you.”

Suddenly all of his doubts came flooding back, and that hint of confidence he’d had earlier, which had certainly been tempered in the hours since he’d run into Mandy, all but vanished.  “You don’t need to,” he said.  “I’m fine.”

Pepper nodded.  “Of course you are.  But–”

“I know, I know.  I’m lonely and closed off.”  His admission of that surprised both of them.  Heck, it surprised _him_.  He wasn’t so blind to his own denial, though.  Especially after realizing that this had become his life.  Not that he was unhappy – not _in the least_ was he unhappy.  He loved Sarah, loved being her father, loved (ugh) taking care of the team as he took care of her.  But he _missed_ being Captain America.  There hadn’t even been a call to assemble in a couple of months now.  He missed the adventure of it, the responsibility.  And, yes, he wanted his family, but he wanted to serve his country, too.  Not than any of that was relevant.  This was a date, not a world crisis.  But it felt nice to have that sense of excitement and adventure.  Maybe it wasn’t even Mandy (although Mandy was, as Tony said, drop dead gorgeous.  And sweet.  And good with Sarah.  And smart.  And…)  “I get it.”  He sighed, digging back into his dinner.

He felt more than saw Pepper and Tony share yet another look.  He had an entire catalogue of the team’s knowing and worried and amused _looks_ about him.  “You know, Cap,” Tony finally said, “you know I don’t believe in nonsense like fate or destiny or anything.  But it sure seems like someone is looking out for you.  You know, putting the pieces together and seeing what comes of it.”

Steve coolly arched an eyebrow.  He knew _exactly_ how little Tony believed in said nonsense.  “Really,” he challenged.

“Well, what are the chances that you’d run into her again like that?  Fairly inconceivable.  Yet you did.  So either she’s stalking you – which, well, maybe – or someone _somewhere_ is trying to tell you something.”  Tony shrugged and went back to his dinner, trying not to smile.  “Just sayin’.”

Steve thought about that the rest of dinner, which was pleasant and filled with idle palaver.  He thought about it through gathering up the dishes, which Pepper insisted he leave because he’d cooked.  He thought about it through bath time and bed time.  He lay on his bed with Sarah, reading her her favorite books one after another until she was sleepy and contented with her thumb in her mouth and curled up in his side.  When she drifted, his brain went right back to it, not that there was anything to think about, really.  Wool-gathering about nothing, because there was nothing to hold him back.  Sarah was safe, well protected by him and the rest of the Avengers.  Peggy was gone, and even if she hadn’t been, she’d absolved him of anything he thought he owed her during one of her more lucid moments toward the end.  She told him to move on and live his life.  Love again.  And what if Tony was right?  What if this was some sort of sign?  Maybe it was time to go on, to do something for himself.  To trust a little.

He gathered Sarah’s sleeping body in his arms and levered himself off his bed.  After settling her into hers, tucking her in, and kissing her goodnight, he went back to his room.  He drew a deep breath.  Then another.  He fished his phone out of the pocket of his shorts.  Before he thought better of it, he punched in Mandy’s number, not pausing, not doubting, not _thinking_.  A moment later he was calling.  And it was ringing.  And she was answering.  “Hi.  Mandy?  Hi.  It’s Steve Rogers.  Listen, about dinner…  What are you doing tomorrow night?”


	4. Chapter 4

Despite having taken on Nazis, HYDRA, the Chitauri, and any number of terrorists and evil threats, Steve still had the capacity to be terrified.  Most people didn’t realize that about him.  They saw Captain America leading the Avengers with a cool head, a calm voice, and a steady hand, and simply figured he didn’t get afraid.  He didn’t get nervous.  He didn’t have doubts.  He was impervious to normal human anxiety and emotions, his mind and body so completely focused and expertly trained that nothing could touch him.  Well, that wasn’t the case.  He was rather adept at staying calm and getting the job done despite the danger or severity of the situation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t _feel_ the situation and all of its implications.  He still had nerves that got rattled, fears that could be overwhelming, worries that he couldn’t handle.  He simply overcame them and soldiered on, knowing it was far more important that he be brave for everyone following him and looking to him for strength.

Strangely enough, though, for all of the aplomb and poise he has on the battlefield, for how _easy_ it was for him to sink into a quiet place in his head where those feelings couldn’t penetrate and unnerve him, he couldn’t manage it now.  And this wasn’t even a life or death situation.  The STRIKE Team wasn’t waiting for his orders to get them out of a sticky situation.  The Avengers weren’t relying on him to keep everyone on task and coming home safe.  The _world_ wasn’t waiting for his quick, tactical thinking to save it.  This was just one date with a beautiful girl, and he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“Steve, for crying out loud…  Stand _still_.”

He wasn’t quite sure, in this moment of absolute mortification, how he’d ended up in this situation.  He was certainly capable of getting himself ready for a date.  Not that he’d been on one before.  Not really.  Bucky had dragged him out a few times in their youths, but he didn’t count those as dates.  Most of those evenings he’d spent holding coats or fetching drinks or standing alone to the side of the dance hall while his date ended up on Bucky’s arm along with Bucky’s own.  Steve never resented him for that; Bucky had done his best to find nice girls for him, but no one wanted to dance with a sick, scrawny nothing of a guy when she could have had Bucky or dozen other lookers.  That had been okay with Steve.  There’d been too much going on, what with the war and his mother dying and struggling to make ends meet.  And he’d also had this crazy idea that he wanted to wait, to find the right woman, _the right partner_.  That had been Peggy.  For so long, even after waking up in this century where he was seventy years removed from the only date he’d ever really wanted, he’d still thought that.  And letting go of that had been the hardest part.

But here he was.  Letting her go.  Moving on.  _Having a life,_ as Tony put it.  And he’d come out of his room a few minutes ago, dressed like a “grandpa”, according to Stark, and “haven’t you learned by now that _no one_ wears plaid?”  Tony and Pepper were getting Sarah ready to take her out for the evening, and Tony had been half involved in some sort of conference call with Bruce, so he’d sent Natasha into Steve’s suite to help him change into something not from the dark ages.  So she was there, having gone through every piece of clothing Steve owned to find something appropriate.  She’d pulled out one of his nicer dark blue button-down shirts, black trousers that were way too soft and expensive (in Steve’s opinion, at any rate), and a silver tie.  He wasn’t taking Mandy anywhere nice enough to warrant dressing so sharply (at least, he didn’t think he was), but Natasha flat-out told him that nothing turned a woman off more than a guy who couldn’t be bothered to clean up nice for her.

She was trying to straighten the mess of his tie, batting his hands away.  “Just let me do it over,” she said in a huff after a moment of frustration.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asked.  It came out harsher than he intended.  He knew her well enough to see a tiny flash of hurt in her eyes as she quickly (and expertly) undid the crooked knot.  “I mean, you don’t need to be doing this.”

“Somebody’s gotta save your butt, Rogers,” she returned.  “Sit.  You’re too tall.”

He obediently lowered himself onto the edge of his bed.  She took the silk tie and fitted it under the collar of his shirt.  “If you want the truth, I’m supposed to be sitting in on a meeting right now with Sitwell and Hill going over a training op for the new recruits.  So your ineptitude is doing me a favor.”  She said that the same way she said most things with him, a combination of prominent sisterly affection and not quite a dash of flirting.  At least, he thought it was flirting.  She was still so hard for him to read sometimes.  “Up.”  He stood, and she went to work tying the tie.  “So this girl…  What do you know about her?”

He was a little taken aback by the question.  “Uh…” he stammered stupidly.  When he recovered from his shock, he eyed her critically.  “Did you look her up?”

Natasha wasn’t fazed as she wrapped the tie around itself.  “Of course I did.”  She cocked an eyebrow at him.  “What did you expect?  I’m sitting on the world’s largest covert intelligence agency, and you want me to _not_ investigate the girl who’s gutsy enough to ask Captain America out to dinner?”

“She didn’t…”  But Mandy had, he supposed.  Maybe that was one of the things he liked about her.  Most women he encountered, both back in the 40s and now, had treated him like he was unbreakable, unreachable, and unapproachable.  It was similar to how he’d been regarded by most people before the serum, save for the unbreakable part.  Either way, no one had really possessed the confidence or interest in order to see past what he looked like to who he was underneath.  Nobody except Peggy.  And Natasha.  Two the strongest women he knew.

And Natasha was right.  There was no way she wasn’t going to check Mandy out, not with the wealth of information and resources at her fingertips and her own inclinations driving her.  “Want me to tell you what I found?” she asked innocently, and that in and of itself felt like some sort of test.  She finished with his tie and smiled.

“Unless she’s a serial murderer, no,” Steve responded with as much gusto as he could manage.  It didn’t feel right, really, knowing things about Mandy that she hadn’t ventured herself.  And wasn’t that some of the fun of this?  Learning about another person?  Hobbies and past exploits and dreams and the like?  Besides, if there was something really bad there, Natasha would have outright told him instead of playing with him like this.  At least, he was pretty sure of that she would.

Natasha turned away, reaching for the jacket that went with these pants before deciding better of it.  “Want me to tell you that she wrote a report in twelfth grade government class about Captain Am–”

“No.”

She leaned against the door of his closet, folding her arms across the red shirt she wore with her hip on the frame.  She looked up and down him.  “Mission accomplished,” she commented.  “You look…”  She smiled timidly, genuinely, and there was something in her eyes that Steve couldn’t place.  Something soft, more than appreciative, more than friendly, more than…   He didn’t know what.  And even if she was only wearing lounge pants and that red shirt, she looked…

Well, this was awkward.  He wondered for a moment if Tony wasn’t right about what he’d said, and the air between him and Natasha positively swam with uncertainty.  She seemed to realize she was staring maybe more than she should have.  “Really nice,” she finally finished.

“Thanks,” he managed.  “You did all the work.”

“Have any cologne?” she asked, boldly walking into his bathroom without his permission.  Steve winced; he wasn’t a big fan of cologne.  Pepper had gotten him some a year or so ago, but he never wore it.  Sure enough, though, she returned with it.  “Wear this.  It’s clean-cut and traditional.  Women like clean-cut and traditional.  At least, I’m pretty sure she does.”

Steve was partially tempted to ask Natasha if _she_ did (and where in the world did that thought come from?), but he didn’t.  He just took the offered vial and did as she requested.  It was getting more and more difficult to focus on what he was doing (and for whom) with Natasha watching him the way she was.  Tony couldn’t be right.  Steve knew he tended to be somewhat on the oblivious side of things when it came to women, but surely he would have noticed after _years_ of working with and living with Natasha that she had feelings for him.  Could she really be that good of an actress, that proficient at hiding what was in her heart?

Well, the answer to that was probably a resounding _yes._   And this really wasn’t the time to be thinking about it.

“What are you looking at?” she eventually asked, like she hadn’t been staring at him a moment before.

Steve flushed and stammered, turning to his reflection in the floor-length mirror.  He had to admit that she had dressed him very nicely; even he thought he looked like someone who belonged in the twenty-first century.  And she was standing right beside him.  “Nothing.  I just…”  He managed a sheepish smile.  “Honestly?  I have no idea what I’m doing.  I couldn’t manage a date back when I knew what was dating was supposed to be like.  Now…”  Fish out of water didn’t really describe how he was feeling.  He’d been part of the future for nearly five years now, and shockingly (and sadly) enough, this was his first foray into socializing on a deeper level with _anyone_ who didn’t wear a gun, wield a hammer, and fight evil.  “What should I talk about?  I can’t tell her about what we do, even if it wasn’t classified, and I don’t know if I feel comfortable telling her anything about Sarah until I know her better, and I–”

“Relax.”  Natasha’s impassive expression softened, her eyes an appealing blue that looked almost like the sea in the setting sunlight in his room.  “Just be yourself.  Probably a funny thing, coming from me.”  She quirked a smile and a shrug.  “But that’s what you do best.  Be yourself.”

He turned.  She was _really_ close.  Awkwardly so, but there was a jolt of excitement that went from the tips of his toes to the roots of his perfectly brushed hair.  He stared at her again, and the urge to forget this and kiss her – _Tony has to be right_ – was almost overwhelming.  The worst part was she seemed to sense the same thing, because she didn’t move away, or even _look_ away, standing loose and languid against his side.  And the moment probably would have gone on only Sarah came bounding into his bedroom.  “Daddy!  Daddy!”

Steve cleared his throat nervously and stepped away from Natasha.  “What, honey?”

“We’re going to get ice cream!” she proclaimed, slurring her r’s badly enough that it sounded like “cweam”.  She came to his legs and lifted her arms up so he could grab her.  “Uppie.”

Natasha smiled and pulled her up into her arms instead.  “Doesn’t daddy look nice?  Let’s not ruin his shirt.”  Her grin turned teasing and wry.  “You have no idea how long it took me to get him looking this good, _malyutka_.”

“Hey,” Steve protested around a weak laugh.

Natasha laughed, carrying Sarah out of his bedroom, and just like that, that fleeting moment between them was gone.  Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering his composure and checking once more how he looked the mirror.  Satisfied, he followed them out through his suite to the corridors outside.  Sarah was excitedly talking about all the funs things she was going to do with Tony and Pepper.  When she spotted them, she squirmed down from Natasha’s arms and ran to Tony, grabbing onto his leg.  Tony appraised Steve critically.  “There.  Now you don’t look ancient.”

“Ha ha,” Steve grumbled.

Pepper came closer, smiling like a fond older sister sending her baby brother out to a dance or something.  She always had this look for him.  She straightened his tie a little more (as if it could possibly be straighter) and beamed proudly.  “You look very handsome, Steve,” she approvingly said.

He tried to quell his embarrassment.  He wasn’t totally helpless and hopeless, even if they thought otherwise.  Thankfully, Tony spared him from having to muster up some sort of reply.  “You want to come out with us, Tasha?  We’re getting ice cream.”  He sing-songed that last part like a lure.  “And I know how much you love chocolate.”  That was said the same way, and it was even more annoying.  “Chocolate with chocolate sprinkles?”

Natasha glared at him before smiling that smile she always had that left you wondering if she was only teasing or secretly plotting your downfall.  “As wonderful as that sounds,” she began, her tone dripping in false sincerity, “I’m needed down at HQ.”  She dropped down to one knee, reaching for Sarah.  She poked Sarah’s nose, and Sarah giggled.  “You be good for Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper, okay?  Best behavior.”

“Okay,” Sarah said.

“Bye, baby.”  She stood and gave Steve a soft smile he couldn’t read.  “Have a good time, Cap.” 

“Thanks,” Steve said, feeling unsettled and not wanting her to go.  Then he convinced himself he was simply buying into Tony’s teasing (the smug look on the inventor’s face pretty much sealed that deal), and the minute the elevator left with Natasha, his nerves crackled with excitement and no small amount of nervousness about meeting Mandy.

“Where you going?” Sarah asked, looking up at him.

He swallowed down the knots twisting his stomach pretty much up into his throat.  “Out for a little while.  I’ll be back in a few hours.  You…  Well, Natasha already said it.  You be good for Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper.  Listen to everything they tell you.”

“Bed time?” she asked a little worriedly, like she hadn’t quite realized the extent of what this was.

“I’m putting you to bed, squirt,” Tony said.  “Dad’ll be back right after.”

Sarah looked hesitant.  She did this sometimes when Steve left her, particularly if it had been a while between this occasion and the last.  Steve learned from the minute she was old enough to notice what was going on and that he was leaving her at a moment’s notice that he shouldn’t make any sort of a big deal of it.  He never wanted to frighten her.  Sometimes she couldn’t care less that he was going; those were the best, when he got her completely engrossed in something so he could slip away practically unseen.  Sometimes there was no helping it, and peeling her screaming body off of him into Rebecca’s arms while trying not to get flustered and upset himself was all he could do.  Still, Sarah was perceptive, and he was pretty sure she’d begun to realize that sometimes daddy left to work, and sometimes he left to _work_.  Leaving to go to SHIELD for a few hours or a day was one thing.  Leaving to go save the world was something else, and she’d already learned to read the tells.

This was something totally new for both of them, and she didn’t know what to make of it.  He always made a point to keep her from seeing him before or after a battle.  No uniform.  No shield.  No sign that he’d been banged up or was filthy.  And he always dressed casually when he had a meeting at HQ or any other sort of business-related affair.  Those weren’t usually this late in the evening, either.  So needless to say, she was getting anxious.  He could tell from the hugeness of her eyes, the way she was grabbing the little dog he’d given her for her birthday that much tighter, the way her thumb was itching its way toward her mouth.  He dropped to a crouch.  “It’s alright.  I’m just meeting someone for dinner.  It’s no big deal.  You have tons of fun stuff planned with Tony.  You just told me about all of it.  So you’re going to have a good time and eat lots of ice cream–”  Which would probably make her absolutely wired, but he supposed that was Tony’s problem.  “Go out for a little bit.  Go play.”

“You know, dad’s not going to be here,” Tony said, “so he’s not going to be able to stop us from checking out some of the new things I’ve been working on.”  Steve shot Tony a weak glare.  He didn’t like it when Tony showed Sarah his half-completed tech, even though Sarah loved it.  He absolutely trusted that Tony would never do anything to endanger her, but accidents happened.  Lord, he was an overprotective parent.  “How does that sound?  And, _and,_ we can stay up late.  You can bunk out in our room.  You and Pepper can sing _Frozen_ five hundred times and I won’t care.  How’s that?”

Normally Pepper would have had something to say about how much she (and everyone else in the Tower) hated _Frozen_ , but she only smiled and nodded.  “It’ll be fun.  I’ll braid your hair like Elsa’s.”  That did it.  Sarah smiled and nodded enthusiastically.  Pepper smiled.  “Give daddy a hug.”

Sarah threw herself around Steve’s neck, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her.  He didn’t care if his shirt got wrinkled or worse (he felt like there was something a little wet on her tank top – ugh).  He didn’t think Mandy would care, and if she did, then that would be a pretty clear-cut sign this wasn’t meant to be.  He squeezed and breathed deeply of her and kissed her cheek.  “You’re gonna be back, Daddy?” she asked timidly.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling her back so he could look in her eyes.  “I’ll always come back.  If you get lost, I’ll always find you.  If you need me, I’ll always be right here for you.  Okay?”  She nodded.  He brushed her loose hair away from her forehead before kissing it and kissing her nose and snuggling her close again.  “Love you, baby girl.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, and she pulled away, grabbed Pepper’s outstretched hand, and headed for the waiting elevator.

When they were gone, Steve released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  Tony clasped him on the shoulder.  “Relax, Cap.  Go and have a good time.  Drink a little, get a little loose and buzzed, not that you can, I guess, but pretend.  Enjoy yourself.  We got this.”  Steve nodded.  He wasn’t sure.  This was…  This was _hard_ for reasons he couldn’t understand, let alone explain.  It wasn’t like he’d never been away from her.  And it wasn’t like he’d never left her with Tony and Pepper before.  But those times had been for work, and this felt just a little selfish.  “Stop feeling guilty, you idiot.”

“Sorry.”  He flushed.  “I have my phone.”

“I’m Iron Man.  Trust me.  I can handle this.  And if I need to find you, _which I won’t_ , I’ll be able to.”  Tony slapped him on the back.  “Remember that it’s perfectly acceptable for you to pay her way, despite equal opportunities for women and all that jazz.  Chicks dig rich dudes.  And it’s normal to get to first base on the first date nowadays.  Or more.”

“Stark–”

“Just kidding.”  Tony stepped into the elevator, offering up a brotherly smile.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Well, that’s patently unhelpful.”

The door to the elevator closed but not in time to blot out Tony’s last shout.  “Don’t do anything stupid then!”

The words came out before Steve could stop them, said to the silence of the empty hallway.  “How can I?  You’re takin’ all the stupid with you.”  He stood there a moment more, lost in memories with half a fond smile on his lips, before turning and heading back to his suite to get his wallet.  He was going to be late if he didn’t get going.

* * *

Mandy had agreed to meet him at this Italian place not far from Grand Central.  It wasn’t a four-star gourmet atmosphere, but the food certainly was worthy of one.  Tony had recommended it to him, having ordered quite a few times from there over the last year or so.  Steve arrived ten minutes early to find his date was already there, waiting for him.  And she was positively stunning.  He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman look quite like she did.  Peggy had been beautiful, and he thought Natasha was fiery and powerful, but Mandy was… picturesque.  Like there wasn’t a flaw to be seen.  She wore a black party dress, form-fitting but not in the least bit vulgar, simply revealing enough that he couldn’t stop his eyes from instantly going exactly where they shouldn’t go.  Her abundant dark brown hair was swept up into a loose bun, wavy tendrils caressing the long line of her neck and the smooth plateau of her shoulders.  She wore just the right amount of makeup, enough to make her lips look lush, pink, and inviting, enough to make her deep blue eyes seem darker and smoky.  Her olive skin positively glowed in the low, golden light of the restaurant.  She was breathtaking.

And she offered up that shy, hesitant smile when the waiter led him over to where she’d been seated.  She started to get up, but she stopped herself.  “Hi.  I suppose I shouldn’t…”  Then she stood anyway.  “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve answered.  He found his brain.  Mostly.  “You look incredible.”

She blushed, and it took her a moment to recover.  “Well, so do you.”

“Sorry I’m late.  Hope you weren’t waiting long.”  He sat across from her as she sank back into her chair.

“Oh, no.  Not really.  Just a few minutes,” she said dismissively.

The waiter came by to pour Steve a glass of water.  When the man was gone, Steve smiled awkwardly at Mandy, not entirely sure what to do with himself.  _Relax_ , came the voice of reason.  _Just be yourself._   “I don’t really have a good excuse,” he blurted.  “Just, uh…  I haven’t done this.  In a while.”  _Like ever._

She smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly white and perfectly spaced teeth.  “Neither have I, actually.  I just moved to the city about a year ago.”

For some reason, that surprised him.  “Really?  From where?”

She flushed.  “Would you believe central Iowa?  Talk about a transition.”

“Your folks live there?” he asked, taking a sip of his water.

She smiled.  “Yeah,” she said, drawing the word out like she was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat uncertain, and yet somewhat proud.  “I know my awesome façade of knowing what the heck I’m doing with myself is convincing, but I really just stick out here like a sore thumb.  I’m a farmer’s girl, through and through.  Grew up around animals my whole life.  Always knew I wanted to be a vet.  So when I graduated high school, I went to veterinary school at the University of Minnesota.  Finished that up and went back home for a while to work.  Somehow rows and rows of corn didn’t quite excite me anymore.  So when I got a hankering for something more exotic, so I came out here.”

The simplicity of that was unusual to him.  And alluring.  “So that’s how you ended up at the Bronx Zoo?”

She nodded.  “It’s great.  I love it.  I mean, working with the animals is spectacular, but learning from the other zookeepers…  Some of them have been there doing this for years, and they have so much to teach me.  I actually started grad school a few weeks ago.  Might be a little late to the game, but I’m trying to get a doctorate in zoology.  Working at it at night.”  She set her water back to the table.  “And teaching kids about animals?  It doesn’t get better than that.”  She smiled.  “Yours is quite the little sponge.”

It took Steve a second to realize she was talking about Sarah.  He’d gotten rather entranced by the way she looked in the soft light.  “Huh?  Oh, yeah.  Trust me: she doesn’t get that from me.  She lives with two of the smartest men on the planet, so I guess it’s interest through osmosis.”

Mandy looked positively awestruck, and that made Steve regret mentioning this.  He didn’t want to be Captain America here tonight.  He didn’t want to be an Avenger, friends with the likes of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.  He didn’t want to have her treat him like a hero rather than a person.  “I can’t imagine what that must be like.  I can’t imagine what _anything_ you do must be like.”  Steve dropped his gaze, and she immediately picked up on everything he didn’t say, leaning back and shaking her head quickly and apologetically.  “Oh, we don’t have to…  I mean, that’s not why I’m here.  I don’t – okay, going to shut up now.”

“No, no,” Steve said.  “It’s alright.  There’s not much to talk about.  You’ve probably seen it.”  He was pretty sure everyone in the world had seen footage of the Avengers fighting at this point, if not from the Battle of New York then from one of the dozens and dozens of altercations since.  “It’s… that.  Basically.  A lot of mess.  And a lot of paperwork.”

The waiter returned again and thankfully alleviated some of the tension.  Steve asked Mandy what sort of wine she wanted, and she returned that anything he chose was fine, which didn’t help him at all.  His knowledge of wines was pathetic, and being unable to get drunk made his interest in drinking even lower.  Thus he randomly selected something.  An awkward moment of silence persisted after that, like they’d ventured into uncomfortable, uncharted territory with no course back.  Mandy seemed hesitant to say anything, and Steve felt like the evening was already slipping away.  He smiled a hopefully comforting smile.  There was no sense in treating who he was like the thousand-ton elephant in the room.  “If you want to ask me something about the Avengers, it’s alright.  I’ll answer if I can.”

She didn’t seem so sure.  “No, it’s not alright.  It’s not my business.  And I know a lot of people are always prying into your lives…  You and the others.  You don’t want to deal with it here, do you?”

Actually, it wasn’t as off-putting as he thought it would be.  “Just because I don’t want to broadcast my story over the internet doesn’t mean I can’t talk about it.”  He tried for a joke.  “Unless you work for TZM and you’re here to fleece me.”

That didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for.  At least, not at first.  She just looked horrified.  But her mortification dissolved into laughter.  “Oh.  You mean TMZ.”

Steve rolled his eyes at himself.  “Yeah.  TMZ.  Sorry.  I still can’t keep up with all the pop culture… stuff.”

She leaned forward a bit, pleased that he wasn’t uncomfortable with her interest.  “No, I don’t work for TMZ,” she said with another laugh.  She watched his face, holding his gaze a moment like she was trying to find her footing.  Then the confident girl came back.  “Tell you what.  I really want to get to know you better.  And I mean _you_ , not Captain America.  Unless you want me to know Captain America.  Because I won’t turn down the opportunity to learn about him, if you’re offering.”

“We’re surprisingly not as different as you might think.”

“Well, I want to know whatever you want to tell me.  But that’s not fair, so how about this.  I ask you something, and you ask me something.  A question for a question.  Even trade.  And either of us can bow out, say uncle or whatever, any time we want.  Alright?”

Steve felt like he should have bowed out right then; there were literally countless things he _couldn’t_ tell her.  About the Avengers and SHIELD and the war.  About Sarah.  About _himself_.  But he didn’t want to.  This was… exciting in a way.  And it wasn’t like he wasn’t in control of what he said.  “Alright.  Ladies first.”

She narrowed her eyes, but her coy smile sort of belied her attempt to look serious and scrutinizing.  “Is Thor still dating that girl the media was all over a few months back?”

He almost sputtered on his water.  “I thought you were interested in me!”

She giggled, blushing again.  “I swear.  This was the _only_ question my friend wanted me to ask.  When I told her I was going out tonight with you, she flipped her lid.  And twisted my arm.  She, uh, she has a thing for Thor.”  She raised her hands helplessly.  “I swear I don’t work for TMZ.”

He chucked, too.  “Yeah, he’s still dating her.”

“Your turn.”

He had no idea what to ask.  “Did you really have to work when I invited you to dinner at Sarah’s party?”

Now she got flustered.  He felt bad a moment, knowing right away he’d caught her in a white lie.  She worried her lip in a wince.  “Um, kinda?  I had work to do, but I didn’t _need_ to do it right then.  I, uh, well…  Having dinner with the Avengers was downright terrifying.  Having dinner with _you_ is terrifying.  But at least you’re only one Avenger.”  Before he could press her further (and likely to save herself from more embarrassment), she quickly took her turn.  “Is your shield heavy?”

That was a mundane thing to ask and surprisingly not something people ever did.  “No, not at all.”

“Is that just because you’re so much stronger than the rest of us?”

He smiled slyly.  “That was two questions.”  She gave him a mock glare.  He took a moment to think.  “Are you an only child?”

“No.  I have two younger sisters at home.  What age does it say on your driver’s license?”

“Uh…  Officially, I guess, it says thirty.  Unofficially, ninety-seven.”

She laughed.  “Seriously?”

“You’re wasting your question on finding out if I’m being honest?  I’m always honest.”  He wanted to ask her the same thing, but he’d always heard it wasn’t polite to question a woman about her age.  “You said your dad’s a farmer.  What does your mother do?”

Mandy’s smile turned a tad sad.  “She was a farmer’s wife.  Lived her life keeping up our household, raising us…  She loved it.  She was a wonderful woman.  She passed away a few years ago.”

Immediately Steve regretted his question.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“No, it’s fine.”  She said that genuinely.  There was a fond light in her eyes.  “Cancer.  But she had a long and good life, so it’s alright, really.  How about yours?  What did she do?”

“She was a nurse.  She raised me alone; my father died in World War I.  I never met him.”

Her face crinkled in compassion.  “I can’t imagine.”

Steve shrugged a little.  It was a long time ago now, even by his standards.  “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been.  She was…  She was strong and beautiful.  She worked so hard.  She has boundless patience for me.  I was sick all the time.  Sometimes I think it was tougher on her than it was on me.  She died before the war.”  He smiled, too, his eyes glazed with memory as he pictured his mother for the first time in a great while.  Blond hair and blue eyes.  Sarah’s face.  The older Sarah got, the more she reminded Steve of her namesake.  It was a blessing, in a way, to have a little piece of his mother right with him every day.  He didn’t _need_ to think of her to see her now.  “If I can be half as good a parent to Sarah as my mother was to me, then I know I’m doin’ things right.”  Mandy smiled faintly, looking down.  This felt to be getting too serious, and they both recognized it right away.  Steve heaved a sigh and picked up his menu.  “I’ll ask a pertinent question.  What do you want to order?”

Dinner was nice.  The food was delicious.  They ate and continued on with this game of theirs.  Eventually the questions got more personal as they both got more comfortable.  Steve learned that Mandy was a lover of baking, a skill which she inherited from her mother, and into indie rock (which meant nothing to him, but he kept smiling and nodding as she talked about it like he understood).  She and her sisters were close; one had stayed to help their father with the farm and the other one was married with a new baby boy.  Her roommate was a grad student in physics and apparently was the Thor fan.  She had been something of a tomboy throughout high school and excelled at sports.  She swam competitively.  She hoped to have her doctorate in three years, if she could maintain this fairly grueling schedule she’d set up for herself.  She was sweet, having lived a mundane, normal life, and she was easy to talk to.  Over coffee Steve told her about Sarah.  He left out many of the details about from where she had come and why, focusing on Sarah herself, how precious and beautiful and special she was.  He got embarrassed when he realized he’d been flapping his lips about his daughter like a proud parent too long, probably annoying Mandy to no end only she was too polite to tell him.  She assured him he wasn’t, that it was nice to see a single father as devoted to his child as Steve was, especially in light of how Sarah had suddenly come into his life and the responsibilities he already faced.

When dinner was over and they realized they’d been sitting there talking for a while, they went outside.  The sun was nearly set, but the city was only coming alive.  Steve briefly entertained the idea of going home, but the night was young yet and Tony had told him earlier that he could stay out as late as he wanted (and it wasn’t even all that late).  And Mandy was even more beautiful now than she had been before, light and breezy on his arm as they walked.  Maybe it was old-fashioned to stroll with her like this, her small, slender hand resting in the crook of his elbow, but if it was, she was humoring him and clearly enjoying it.  The evening was warm, not so much as to be uncomfortable, but pleasant enough that everything felt a tad slow and lazy.  And it was nice to just be another guy taking a girl out for a good time.  Not to be Captain America.  Not even to be Steve Rogers.  “What was it like?  Waking up here?”

Her sudden question took Steve aback a little.  They’d been chatting about other things, books she enjoyed and movies she recommended, so going back to more serious matters came a bit out of left field.  He shrugged.  “I don’t think about it much anymore, to be honest,” he admitted.  “I guess…  It was hard.  Obviously.  But I threw myself into work, so that kept me busy.  And then things settled down with the team and, I don’t know, everything fell into place.  And since Sarah came into my life, I just…  What’s done is done.  I don’t feel the need to dwell.”

“You miss it, though,” Mandy said, concern soft in her tone.

There was no sense in lying, and it was nice not having to hide how he felt.  When he’d come out of the ice and into this world, there had been a lot of expectations placed on him.  Pick himself back up.  Adapt.  Learn.  Lead the Avengers.  Join SHIELD.  And he’d done those things.  This wasn’t to say he’d never grieved, but getting lost up in everything that had been taken from him didn’t seem worth it.  And now he had so much in his life that the sorrow never overwhelmed him.  Tony and Pepper.  Natasha and Clint.  Bruce.  Thor.  And Sarah especially.  There was no emptiness, just peaceful regrets and things with which he’d made his peace.  “Sometimes I do.  For everyone else, it’s been more than seventy years.  I lost friends recently.”

For a moment, she was quiet.  “I’m sorry.”  She looked at him.  The warm evening breeze was pulling some of her hair loose, and it blew across her face.  “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Don’t be,” he replied.  He felt unusually bold, brushing the tendril of wavy brown from across her cheek.  “I’m not.”  He smiled, leaning closer.  “Plenty of good stuff about the future.”

It might have been the flirtiest thing he’d ever said, and much to his pleasure, she immediately blushed with the subtle compliment.  “Listen, there’s a pretty good bakery up the street a little.  You want to stop and get something?”

“Sure.  I probably should have warned you before, though.  People don’t usually notice me without…  Well, without the shield and the uniform, but it has happened.  And they usually just want a picture or something.  But just be prepared.”

“The horror,” Mandy said.  “Being photographed on the arm of Captain America?”  She grinned.  “I can think of far worse things to happen to me.”  She was obviously feeling bolder too because she leaned into him as he leaned into her.  He could smell her perfume, a light, flowery scent that was lulling him with each heavy breath.  “Like tonight ending and you not asking me to see you again.”  That came suddenly, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected.  Still, it made his heart pound a little harder and his breath get stuck in his lungs.  She searched his eyes, hers so deeply blue.  “I’m really having a good time.”

“So am I,” he said softly.  He thought for a moment she was going to lean up so they could kiss, but she lingered, like she couldn’t summon the courage to do it.  Neither could he.

The quiet moment went on, fraught with uncertainty and yearning.  Eventually she took his hand and pulled him onward.  “Come on.  They have the best devil’s food cupcake you’ll ever eat.”

The bakery was nice but small and busy.  In addition to a huge array of pastries, cookies, and other confectionaries, they apparently made a famous gelato, which people were lined up to buy on this hot evening.  There was a flat screen TV in the back where patrons were crowded around tables enjoying their treats and desserts, and it was quietly playing the evening news.  The low hum of conversation was gentle and unobtrusive.  Steve stood in line, Mandy having gotten them a table near the back.  She was reaching into her handbag, checking her phone once between putting it away.  She caught his eyes when she was done and smiled broadly.  No one else looked his way, and he was comfortable and relieved with the anonymity.  Up at the counter, he ordered a few cupcakes, making sure to get a devil’s food one for her, paid for it, and took their sweets to the little table.  It was a tad cramped, and it didn’t help that he was so tall and big.  But he squished down into the seat and offered up a cupcake to Mandy.  They were huge, fresh, warm, and teeming with gooey frosting.  “Chocolate this good should be illegal,” she commented.  “I have tried and tried, but I can’t ever get it this moist without it falling apart.  I don’t know how they do it.”

Steve pulled the wrapper away from the red velvet one he’d gotten for himself.  The cream cheese frosting looked delectable.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cupcake this big.  Are you just supposed to eat it?”

“Well, yeah,” Mandy replied.  She smiled both anticipatory and mischievously.  “Go for it.  Stuff it in there.  I read somewhere that you’re supposed to eat a lot more than us normal folk, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”  She was teasing him, a sly glint coming to her eyes that he was really starting to like.  “Honestly, I kinda expected you to order two dinners for yourself.”

“I try to reel it in for pretty girls,” Steve responded.  He took a big bite of his cupcake.  He wasn’t much into sweets; a youth spent without them had fairly well prevented him from ever developing a taste for them.  But this was _good_.  “Wow.”

“I know, right?”  She took a smaller bite of her cupcake.  Then she laughed and reached over to rub her thumb over his upper lip.  It was unexpected and absolutely _electrifying._   “Frosting,” she explained at his completely lax expression.  “More.”  She wiped his cheek.

Suddenly he wanted to kiss her again, _really_ wanted to kiss her.  That was pretty shocking because Peggy was the only woman he’d ever kissed.  And _Peggy_ had kissed _him_ , so this was wildly uncharted.  And he was about to lean across that tiny cramped table and do it when a gasp to their left grabbed his attention.  “Oh, my God,” someone whimpered.

Steve turned and saw the entirety of the bakery was staring at the television.  There was a reporter on the screen at the scene of some sort of attack.  Steve recognized the location behind the woman.  It was Central Park.  “At the moment we can only confirm that there was some sort of altercation here about thirty minutes ago.  The police are searching for a black, unmarked SUV which was seen fleeing from the scene by numerous bystanders.  Other reports are difficult to piece together at this time, but it seems like billionaire inventor Tony Stark was injured during the assault.  We don’t know how seriously at this point–”

Steve’s heart stopped.  His brain froze.  He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t move.  He couldn’t–

“Tony,” he whispered.  _Tony’s been hurt.  Tony was attacked._   His brain kicked into gear.  _Tony’s with Sarah._

He was on his feet with a jerk, breathing now and breathing hard.  His heart was pounding.  But before he could move, Mandy was _there_ , coming around the table with sudden force.  With deadly, dominating power.  She stood in front of him, and she was a _completely_ different person.  The beauty was still there, but it was abruptly cruel, severe.  Her eyes were ice.  “Tell me some more,” she seethed lowly.  She grabbed his tie, yanking him closer.  “Tell me some more about how much you need her.  About how precious she is to you.  About how much you _love_ her.”  Something was ringing, but he could hardly hear it.  Hardly focus.  Hardly do _anything_ but stare at her blue eyes in complete shock and disbelief.  She kissed him.  She was demanding, rough, and it tasted like rich chocolate.  Just when he realized that he was bigger and stronger and could _fight_ her, she let him go and shoved him back into the table.  Their plates rattled.  That something was still _ringing_ and _ringing_ , but he was too horrified to pay attention to it.  She scowled at him, every bit of compassion and affection gone from her and replaced with pure, unabashed _malice_.  “She’s gonna want her daddy.  So you run, _Steve_.”

He couldn’t breathe.  “Who are you?”

She cocked an eyebrow.  “Answer your phone.”

Anger pulsed over him, rising momentarily above his panic.  _“Who are you?”_

Something exploded behind him.  The next thing he knew he was being flung forward _hard_ , and he collided with other people and other things.  The roar was deafening, and he was lost in it for a costly moment.  When he gathered his senses, he and a few other patrons were covered in debris from part of the collapsed ceiling, shattered glass, and broken tables and chairs.  Rapidly he picked himself up and whirled.  The people around him were screaming, gasping, crying, some hurt but no one seriously.  And Mandy was _gone_.

Steve panted in surprise, surprise that quickly morphed into abject terror.  _Sarah.  Oh, God.  Sarah!_ He ran out of the bakery where the bomb that had probably been in her pocketbook had destroyed the store front.  He barreled out into the street where people were screaming and distant sirens were wailing.  He looked and looked.  Looked for her.  But there was no sign of her.  No matter how he scanned the chaotic crowds around him, he couldn’t find her.

 _Answer your phone._   It was still shrilly ringing.  He reached into his pocket and fumbled for it, not even glancing at the caller ID.  His hands were shaking.  His voice shook even more.  “Hello?”

It was Clint.  “Steve, Tony’s been shot.”

 _Oh, God._ Clint was talking, something about an attack and Pepper and they’d taken Tony to Mount Sinai.  He couldn’t understand any of that.  He couldn’t understand anything beyond the singular desperate thought pounding through his head.  “Sarah?” he gasped.

“Just get down here.”

He ran.

* * *

He burst into the emergency room at Mount Sinai.  It was crowded, busy with doctors and patients alike, and there were police everywhere.  Police and SHIELD security.  The latter recognized Steve instantly and allowed him to pass deeper inside.  He was jogging, side-stepping and dodging people in his way, his senses blurring sight and sound, heart thundering and breath shallow, mind still absolutely frozen.  He moved lithely despite all that, instinct guiding him, and a few minutes of frantic searching had him in the rear of the ER where more private rooms were located.  Security was even heavier here, and four SHIELD special ops soldiers were guarding the hallway with their rifles across their chests.  They were about to let Steve through, but even if they weren’t, Clint was right beyond them down beside an examination room.  The archer dropped his phone from his ear the minute he saw Steve.  “Cap.  Thank God.”

Steve rushed to him.  “Where is she?” he immediately gasped.  Clint was pale, eyes hollow, and the minute Steve clutched his jacket, he seemed to shrink.  “Clint, where is she?”

“Steve, just stay calm, okay?  We’re trying to figure out what happened,” Clint replied.  “Everything’s a mess right now, so we just need to keep level heads until we get a handle–”

Steve wasn’t listening.  It was a curious thing, but his mind, normally so unerringly and infallibly calm in even the most dangerous of situations, had completely shut down.  He was pulling away from Clint, running toward some double doors ahead of him.  He didn’t know what he was running _to_.  He just knew he needed to find her.  _Find her.  Find Sarah.  Find her find her find her–_

“Steve, wait!  Hold on!”  Clint lurched to keep up.

“Where’s Tony?” Steve demanded.  The doors swung wildly on their hinges as he powered through them.  There were more hospital rooms along the subsequent corridor, all of them empty.  His worry got worse and worse until it was practically consuming.  Worry for Tony.  For Pepper.  For Sarah.  _Sarah._ “Clint, where is he?”

For all of his own grace and speed, Clint was having a hard time catching up.  “He’s in surgery.  He’s going to be okay, but his shoulder was in pretty bad shape and he was losing a lot of blood.”

“What about Pepper?” Steve gasped.  He could hardly think, hardly talk, hardly make sense.  “Where did they take him?”

“He’s in _surgery!_   You can’t see him right now.  Nat’s up there and she’ll let us know the minute Tony can tell us anything.  Look, wherever Sarah is, Pepper’s gotta be with her.  She wasn’t at the scene.”

“Clint, my date…  It was a setup.”  Steve’s energy abruptly started to fail him, as was his strength.  He slowed in his useless hunt, slowed and stopped and squeezed his eyes shut.

Clint was right beside him, grasping Steve’s shoulder.  His eyes were wide with horror at the implications of what he was hearing.  He lowered his tone.  “A setup?”

“To get me away from Sarah.”  Steve sagged, unable to cope with this.  Not this.  A million terrible thoughts raced through his head.  So terrible that it _hurt_.  It throbbed in his heart, a gut-wrenching agony that stole his breath, terror unlike _anything_ he’d ever known before…  “Oh, God, Clint…  Where is she?”

Clint rubbed Steve’s shoulder as he panted harsh and quick, a pace away from hyperventilating.  Steve squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like he was a kid again, helpless and on the brink of an asthma attack.  “Easy,” Clint comforted.  “Just take it easy.  She’s alright.  I’m sure Pepper ran and took her somewhere safe.  I’m sure, Steve.”

Steve couldn’t be.  He knew what Clint was trying to do, keep him calm and not leaping to the worst possibilities before they had all the facts, but he just couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t not imagine who could have attacked Tony.  Who could have set this up.  What they could want.  _Why._   He couldn’t wait to find out what happened.  He _couldn’t._

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.  The doors opened ahead.  Natasha stopped in her stride, her eyes widening with surprise, hesitation, and finally fear when she saw Steve was there.  Steve jerked himself straight and stared at her, stared and hoped.  _Prayed._   But he knew immediately from her expression, as placid as she was trying to make it, that he was praying in vain.  She eventually came closer, worrying her lower lip with her teeth slightly.  She nodded.  “Tony’s going to be okay.  He’s alright.  He’s in recovery.  He’s not entirely conscious, but I was able to get some information out of him.”

She didn’t say anything more, and the silence that followed was torturous.  Steve was panting again, trying to understand, trying _not_ to understand, trying not to…  “What?” Clint eventually asked in a strained voice.

Natasha had been carrying something behind her back, and she closed her eyes in grief as she handed it to Steve.  “They’re gone, Steve.  They were taken.”  It was the little stuffed dog, the one he’d given Sarah for her birthday.  Natasha shivered slightly, the pain on her face unfathomable.  “Pepper and Sarah.  They’re both gone.”

That didn’t make sense.  It couldn’t be true, even if he’d known it from the moment he’d seen Natasha coming toward them.  No, from the moment Mandy (or whoever she was) had taunted him.  It _couldn’t_ be true.  This wasn’t real.  A nightmare.  He was dreaming.  Hallucinating.  _This can’t be real!_  

But it was.  Steve dropped his gaze from Natasha’s pale face to the dog.  He slowly reached his hand out, and she slowly put it into it, curling her warm fingers around his.  Steve stared at the toy.  It was a little dirty.  He didn’t know if that had come from Sarah playing roughly with it and taking it everywhere she went or if it had come from the attack.  He rubbed his thumb over the dog’s floppy ear where the dirt was the most engrained.  She wouldn’t have just dropped this.  And she’d be afraid without it.  Without him.  She would be scared.  She would be crying.  She would be…

_Oh, God._

“No,” he moaned.  He clenched the dog tightly in his fist.  “No.  Please.  _Please._ ”  His eyes burned and everything went hazy and indistinct.  The world was closing in on him, so painfully tightly, constricting and squeezing and _squeezing_ …  “No!”

“Steve,” Natasha whispered.  She reached for him.

But he was already gone from it all, gone from her and Clint, gone from Sarah as much as Sarah was gone from him, and all he could manage was a muffled, miserable cry as he hit the floor hard and helpless on his knees.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Since this is AU, I'm altering, using, and abusing _Agents of SHIELD_ as I see fit. Enjoy, and thanks to everyone reading!

The next hour went by in a blur.  Then it was two hours.  Then _three._   Steve couldn’t focus.  Couldn’t function.  Couldn’t say anything beyond the bare minimum.  Couldn’t _think_.  Could hardly feel, at least nothing outside of the numbing enormity of his terror that _this was really happening._   He was completely useless.  He’d never been like this before, never in his life so hopelessly bereft of a direction.  But that was what he was now.  Lost and suffering with a need he couldn’t fulfill.  A task he couldn’t complete.  _Find Sarah.  Save her._

Not long after Natasha had brought him the news that Sarah and Pepper had been kidnapped, Nick Fury had arrived on the scene.  He seemed as placid and in control as ever, but Steve knew him well enough to notice it was a façade.  Beneath his calm exterior, the SHIELD Director was positively seething.  Mount Sinai was practically closed down as SHIELD secured the area, and the investigation was beginning in earnest.  Fury had pulled every available agent in the New York metro area to work this and only this, so the manpower behind the search was formidable.  Right now, they were trying to keep the situation contained to within SHIELD, involving local law enforcement as necessary but with false information in hopes of keeping the media in the blind and the kidnappers from being spooked.  Security check points were being set up all around the city, on the tunnels and bridges, at train stations and airports.  Getting out wouldn’t be an easy task.  The description of the car – as well as what little Tony could provide in terms of the men inside it – had gone across the country.  With that as well was information about Amanda Thayer (although Steve was becoming increasingly certain that wasn’t her name).  She’d gone from being a nobody to reaching the top of SHIELD’s most wanted list in a matter of minutes.  SHIELD moved with military efficiency, and with no time at all, a massive manhunt with all of the organization’s considerable clout, power, and size behind it was underway.  Fury pulled Steve aside and assured him they would find Sarah, that these men, whoever they were, wouldn’t keep Captain America’s daughter captive for long.  Somehow that didn’t make Steve feel any better.

The others had come as well.  Bruce had been the first, flustered and horrified.  He was fidgety with nervous energy, worried and staying close to Tony’s hospital bed.  Thor arrived not long after, Mjölnir clenched tight in one fist.  Where Bruce had been quiet and shocked, the demigod was as forceful and loud as ever, demanding to Fury that this situation be rectified immediately.  Clint and Natasha had calmed him with soft words and promises that everything that could be done was being done.  He’d reluctantly cooled down, instead crushing Steve to his chest and adding his own assurances that he would not rest until Sarah was back in their arms.  He’d stayed close to Steve’s side after that, silently fuming but unwilling to let his captain falter or despair.  Part of Steve was grateful for Thor’s constant presence.  Most of him was just too pained to notice.

The Avengers gathered inside Tony’s hospital room to listen as Fury quietly went over what had happened.  Tony had been floating in and out of consciousness since the incident, so details were yet sparse.  However, it was becoming obvious that the attack had been launched without warning, an ambush performed by professionals.  He and Pepper had taken Sarah as promised to get ice cream from a fancy shop near Central Park West.  Instead of having Happy Hogan drive them, Tony had taken them himself in one of his many sports cars, which was now riddled with bullets and being examined by a SHIELD forensics unit.  Apparently he’d parked, taken the two of them to get their treat and for a stroll through the park, and then they’d leisurely made their way back to the car, avoiding the paparazzi and fans for the most part.  When they’d reached his car, though, the black SUV had appeared, cornering them.  The men inside had immediately opened fire, taking Tony out before he’d even had a chance to summon Iron Man.  He’d been lucky he hadn’t been killed.  The last thing he remembered clearly before being clubbed over the head was seeing Pepper holding Sarah and both of them being dragged and manhandled into the SUV.

But that was all they knew at this point.  Tony hadn’t been able to supply much more, exhausted and heavily dosed on morphine, and his surgeon wanted everyone to let him rest since he was still recovering from shock brought on by blood loss.  Without more of a description to go on, the search was going to be difficult.  A few witnesses had seen the attack, but other than labelling the kidnappers as Caucasian men, they had nothing terribly useful to add.  And their reports were conflicting.  Some said three or four attackers.  Others indicated there could be up to a dozen.  Fury leaned toward the latter; there had probably been an additional van or SUV that Tony hadn’t seen providing support.  There was no way a handful of men would have been able to take out Iron Man like he was nothing.  Some said the SUV drove north.  Some claimed south.  No one had directly seen these guys take Sarah and Pepper.  Everything was a mess.  If the men had been trapped in Manhattan by SHIELD’s security blockade, that was one thing, though the city was still a humongous place.  But Steve had a feeling they’d already escaped.  They’d planned _everything_ else, from planting Mandy at the zoo to her somehow running into him exactly as she had yesterday to her luring him away from Sarah.  A bullet to the shoulder wouldn’t have taken down Captain America.  Tony was one of the strongest men Steve knew, but without his suit, he was still just a man.  This whole thing had been planned from the get-go.

He _hated_ himself for not seeing that.

Sadly, Mandy was their only lead right now, and she wasn’t a good one.  Natasha was going over the file she’d assembled on Mandy from a few hours ago (back when this had only been a joke) and comparing that with what Steve knew about her.  It all matched.  Amanda Thayer was born April 22nd, 1983, in Mason City, Iowa.  She was the oldest of three girls.  Her father owned a dairy farm.  Her mother had died of breast cancer.  She’d attended veterinary school at the University of Minnesota from 2010-2013, and she’d moved to New York City about six months ago.  Everything about her seemed genuine.  She was squeaky clean, almost suspiciously so (but wasn’t hindsight twenty-twenty?).  No trouble with the law.  Not even a parking ticket.  She paid her bills, voted, and had an exemplary record at every job she’d ever held.  She was a stellar student and athletic competitor.  The woman who’d tricked him into leaving ( _abandoning_ ) his daughter either actually was this Mandy Thayer, or this was the cleanest hack in the history of hacking because all the information matched completely and all the images they had of this girl from her childhood all the way through her college graduation were right, even candid family photos.  SHIELD’s information _couldn’t_ be wrong.  Their mainframes were impenetrable, and there was no sign the files had been altered or otherwise tampered with.

Of course, their resident expert on this sort of thing was sadly unconscious.  And that meant more waiting.  The meeting separated once it became apparent there was nothing more to be learned until Tony woke up.  Most of the team was unwilling to just loiter around uselessly; patience was not a strong suit of any of theirs.  SHIELD was conducting a massive face trace for both Sarah and Pepper, and Bruce went to try to increase their computing power by tying in the CPU cluster at Stark Tower.  Again, this was normally the sort of thing Tony would do, but he was the best alternative they had.  Clint headed off to the crime scene and to correspond with the SHIELD techs and agents trying to track down the SUV.  Thor believed he could provide some aid, but he refused to specify how.  Instead he wrapped a muscled arm around Steve’s shoulders, bade him to stay strong, and left in a hurry.  Pretty soon, it was only Natasha and Steve left in Tony’s room.

Steve stared at his friend, seeing it all but somehow not letting any of it in.  Tony was pale, his head wrapped in a bandage that did nothing to conceal the heavy bruising that was creeping down the left side of his face.  Underneath the hospital gown his right shoulder was wrapped securely, thick bandages circling the joint and his chest.  The bullet had apparently struck his collar bone and ricocheted down close to his lung.  He’d been extremely fortunate; he could have died if the trajectory had been only centimeters in a different direction.  There was an oxygen cannula under his nose and a blanket up to his midriff.  He looked peaceful, though probably only because of the analgesics being pumped into him.  Steve’s heart ached.  He remembered then that this wasn’t only about Sarah.  The men had taken Pepper, too.  Tony’s wife was gone as much as Steve’s daughter was.  This was unfathomable.

“Steve?”  Natasha’s soft voice barely pierced the veil of his despair.  Tony’s unconscious form blurred, a wet smear of dark hair and pale skin and ghostly white surrounding him.  Steve closed his eyes, struggling to stay in control.  The numbness that had carried him through this so far was fading rapidly, and he knew what lay underneath it was raw with panic.  Raw with panic and bleeding fear.  “Steve, it’s alright.”

She sensed it, of course.  She always did.  She was Black Widow.  Steve had quickly learned that, for all her power and prowess as an assassin and martial artist, her true power was reading people.  And she was reading him.  It wasn’t exactly hard because he was one breath away from falling apart.  He sucked in that one breath, sucked it in through teeth clenched against pain and the sob itching in his throat.  He held it in his lungs until it burned, ached, turned absolutely _poisonous_ , but he wasn’t going to let it go because if he did…

“Steve,” Natasha murmured.  She was suddenly right beside him.  Her hands were firm as she guided him over to a chair.  “Sit down.”  He was sitting because she moved him exactly the way he needed to.  He hit the chair, still unable to look away from Tony, still unable to let go out of the breath trapped in his chest.  “Steve,” Natasha said again.  She was in front of him now, crouched at his knees.  “It’s alright.  Breathe.  Let it out.”

He let it out.  It was like a punch to the gut, and a hoarse sob escaped.  The first of his tears burned their way down his already heated face.  “It’s my fault,” he whispered.  “I wasn’t there.  I wasn’t there and she needed me.  I wasn’t there!”

“Easy,” she whispered, coming closer.  She stood and reached for his shoulders.  The next thing he knew his head was being tucked into her stomach.  He went rigid and tried to pull away, but her hands were insistent despite being so tender.  She was firm, keeping him still in her arms until he succumbed.  His sobs were soft, simply shuddering breaths against her as he grasped her hips and held on tight.  Her fingers stroked lightly through his hair.  “Easy.  It’s alright.”

“My fault, Nat,” he whimpered around another sob.

“It’s not,” she returned quietly.  There wasn’t a bit of doubt in her voice.  “It’s not your fault.  Don’t ever think that.  Don’t do this to yourself.  You couldn’t have done anything.”

“Why didn’t you see this?” he snarled around a cry, clenching her tighter.  If he’d been more in control of himself, more in his right mind, he would have been aghast at his behavior.  As it was, the anger and bitter terror was too strong.  “You said you looked her up!  How did you not _see it_?”

“I don’t know,” was her calm, quiet response.

“I didn’t see it either,” he moaned.  “I let my guard down, let her get into my head…  And she…”  He couldn’t stand it.  Not how betrayed and _stupid_ he felt.  “It’s my fault!”

“No.  And thinking that doesn’t get us anything but heartache, so don’t.”

He pulled in a trembling breath, his lips chapped from the tears washing them and his teeth chewing them.  “She’s gonna be scared.”  For some reason, that was the worst of all of it.  It was awful, not knowing where she was and what could be happening, but wherever she was, she was afraid, and _knowing_ that and that he couldn’t be there to make it better…  God, the pain was unimaginable.  His arms ached from the ghostly sensation of holding her.  It was almost real it was so sharp.  He could close his eyes and _feel_ her, one of the millions of hugs and kisses and snuggles and…  Horrible images filled his head.  Sarah crying.  Sarah reaching for him.  He couldn’t bear to look at any other them.  This was worse than torture.  “She’s…”

“Pepper’s with her,” Natasha assured him.  That didn’t necessarily mean anything, and Steve was too smart not to realize that (so was Natasha for that matter, but when she lied, she was nothing but convincing).  “Pepper’s with her, so she’s not alone.  And we’re going to find them both before anything can happen to them.”  Steve forced himself to think that.  He closed his eyes and made himself _believe_ it.  “They probably took her to get to you.  They’re not going to hurt her until they get whatever they want from you, so we have time to find them.”

He was too distraught to think beyond that for a moment.  Could it be true?  “I’ll do _anything._ Whatever they want.”

“Steve…”  He gasped another sob, and that stopped her from arguing.  Instead, he felt her sigh.  “But it won’t come to that, because we’ll find her first.  Okay?”  He couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded weakly.  “Shh.”  Natasha’s hands felt tender and sweet, and he closed his aching, burning eyes and leaned into her more.  She seemed entirely willing to support him, to let him come apart.  “It’s gonna be alright,” she said again, a murmur into his hair.  “I know it.  It’ll be alright.”  She kept saying it over and over again, softly but insistently, like some sort of chant or mantra she was trying to ingrain into him.  This should have been awkward, and he should have been ashamed of himself and downright embarrassed to have fallen to pieces like this in front of her, but he wasn’t.  He should have been _better_ than this, the one out there leading the team and coordinating the search, but he was in here, crying in a chair with Natasha wrapped around him.

Eventually his uneven breaths slowed, and the pain went back down to a state of numbness that he thought he could tolerate.  Natasha was warm and soft, her arms tight around his head and shoulders.  Protective.  Loving.  He lingered like that longer than he should have, exhausted for reasons he couldn’t understand.  When he finally found the strength to raise his head and look up at her, she smiled faintly and nodded.  Her own eyes were a little wet, but she blinked and that was gone and the woman he knew was back, strong and brave.  “Alright,” she said calmly.  She untangled his arms from her but didn’t let his hands go, crouching in front of him again and wrapping them tightly in her own.  “You got it out.  And that’s fine.  It’s good.  You needed to.  Anyone in your place would.”  She brushed a hand over his cheek, wiping away the last of his tears.  “Now pick yourself back up and go out there and find your daughter.”

Steve stared at her, into the depths of her eyes.  She was always an enigma to him, even knowing her as well as he did.  Her heart was perpetually hidden, enshrouded by so many lies and so many different masks, but right then, he thought this was really _her_.  The woman underneath Black Widow, who was genuinely _certain_ that he was going to find Sarah because he was Captain America.  Who had that much faith in him.  She wasn’t lying about it or trying to hide it.  He felt like he was seeing her for the first time this way, not that she hadn’t had faith in him before.  She trusted him with her life every time they stepped into battle together.  But this was _Natasha’s_ faith, not Black Widow’s.  And that meant more.

So he nodded again.  She did, too, leaning closer to pull him into another hug.  Her hand swept down his back in a comforting caress.  He forced his heart to slow its pained pulse, his lungs to breathe deeper, his body to relax.  When she moved back, she was so close, so wonderfully warm in a world turned icy and hateful, that he could have kissed her.

“Ahem,” came a hoarse grunt from the hospital bed.  Natasha turned, and Steve jolted to his feet.  Tony was watching them with bleary, unfocussed, drugged-out eyes.  “If you two are done, I’d like to figure out how we’re going to get our girls back.”

“Tony,” Steve whispered, and he was pushing past Natasha to rush over and slide into the chair at the side of the hospital bed.  He wiped the remainder of his tears away before gently taking up Stark’s hand.  “Tony, thank God.”  He squeezed Tony’s fingers, trying to anchor his friend in the waking world.  Tony grimaced, his eyes falling shut again but more from pain than from sleep.  Steve winced on his behalf.  He’d seen Tony hurt before of course, but it had always been in the line of duty.  This was anything but.  “How bad is the pain?”

“Pretty bad,” Tony managed through gritted teeth.  He gasped, squirming into the pillows and sheets.  “But I’ll live.”  He exhaled a shaky breath that wasn’t just pain.  “Steve…”  His fingers tightened around Steve’s, and his face fractured in grief.  “I’m so sorry.  I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

He supposed listening to Tony blame himself was akin to what Natasha had just been through listening to him do the same.  And maybe a tiny, irrational part of him did blame Tony for what had happened, but he stomped it out quickly.  This wasn’t anyone’s fault.  Blaming each other would get them nothing, and what they all wanted was Pepper and Sarah home safe.  “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Tony groaned.  “You left her with me.  _With me._   And I…  God, they took Pepper, Steve.  They came out of nowhere, and they took Pepper and Sarah and I couldn’t…  I couldn’t…”

“Take it easy, Tony,” Steve hushed, gently pushing Tony’s uninjured shoulder back so that he relaxed against the bed.  “Just take it easy.”  Natasha brought over a cup of water, and she inclined Tony’s bed slightly.  Steve helped him sit up a bit further, gingerly sliding his arm behind Tony’s shoulders.  Together, he and Natasha guided the straw into Tony’s mouth so he could drink.

When he was done, Tony fell back, panting.  “How – how long?”

“A few hours,” Natasha responded.

Tony looked distressed at that.  “And?”

Natasha sighed, setting the cup back down on the rolling table beside the bed.  “We’re working on it.”

“How?” Tony asked a tad frantically.  His eyes were brighter as he climbed out from under the shock and pain.  He grasped Steve’s rumpled dress shirt, his fingers curling desperately.  “ _How?_   Steve–”

“SHIELD’s here,” Steve supplied, although that was about as much comfort to Tony as it was to him, probably even less so.  “They’re searching.  Tony, did you see the men who did this?  Fury said you passed out before you could–”

“It was Ward,” Tony said.  Steve’s blood went cold.  Sweat beaded on Tony’s pale skin, giving it a sickly sheen, and his eyes were positively glowing with frenzied emotion.  “That bastard who came into the workshop yesterday.”  Steve didn’t need the explanation.  The dismay coursing through his veins and undoubtedly showing on his face had nothing to do with not remembering.  “It was him.”

“Agent Grant Ward?” Natasha repeated, her eyes narrowing and brow furrowing in confusion.

Tony gritted his teeth.  Another gasp was punched from his lips and he sunk down into the bed again, trying to catch his breath.  He groaned, and Steve held him tighter.  It was clear he was in excruciating pain, but they _needed_ to know what Tony had to say.  Tony recognized that too, struggling through the agony with his hands twined into Steve’s shirt, eyes wide again with a need to help.  “Saw him in the SUV,” he ground out.  “Before they knocked me out.  Saw him there.”

Natasha shook her head, glancing at Steve.  “What does Ward have to do with this?  He was at the Tower?”

Steve shushed Tony a little but let him squeeze his hands as hard as he wanted.  He pressed the call button on the bed to summon some help; Tony obviously needed more pain medication, and seeing him suffering like this was only adding to the stress and trauma.  “He and Agent Garrett stopped by yesterday morning.”  His heart sank into his stomach.  He’d had a bad feeling about Ward, but he’d ignored it, appeased by the warnings he’d come to give and the story he’d had.  “He said he found Sarah in the lab where she was born,” he quietly declared.

“What?” Tony said, eyes squinted in pain going wide anew.  “You didn’t say anything.”

He hadn’t.  He _should have._   Honestly, the prospect of the date with Mandy had made Ward’s visit completely slip his mind.  More and more, it seemed like that had been the entire awful point of this all.  “I didn’t think it meant anything!”  Tony grunted dismissively, clearly unhappy with that.  He was trying (and failing) to sit up, digging his elbows into the mattress for leverage.  “Tony, easy.  Just relax.  You’re going to hurt yourself.”  Tony shook his head, pushing Steve away.  He shoved the blanket down and swung his legs from the bed.  “Tony, stop.  For Pete’s sake, stop!”

“What else did he say?” Tony demanded.  He couldn’t catch his wind, but he wasn’t stopping.  Steve stood back, watching in horror, a further plea poised on his lips that Tony quit it with this nonsense.  He was hurt and he shouldn’t be–  “You expect me to lay here while Pepper and Sarah are in trouble?  No way.  And stuff whatever garbage’s about to come out of your trap about me resting.  You’d do the same.”  Steve’s mouth hung open limply and dumbly as he watched Tony struggling to pull himself together.  Frankly, he was completely unable to argue with that; to do so would make him nothing other than a total hypocrite.  Tony sniffed, his eyes glistening at the corners with a mixture of tears and sweat.  He was shivering.  Natasha picked the discarded blanket up and draped it over his shoulders.  Tony grabbed the ends of it and pulled it closer.  “Now what else did he say?”

Steve couldn’t recall for a horrendously long moment.  His memory, normally so infallible and reliable, was blank.  He couldn’t make himself think again.  But then he did.  “He wanted to warn me about the Centipede…  Oh, God.”

“The Centipede project?” Natasha finished.

“That’s was supposedly what they were there about,” Tony explained to her.  “Said they needed my help with neutralizing the serum.”

She didn’t accept that.  “Fury wouldn’t have sent someone,” she said.  “Something that important?  He would have asked himself.”

It didn’t seem possible, but Steve felt even more like an idiot.  He’d thought that at the time, _suspected_ it, but he hadn’t done anything about it!  “Ward said I should be careful.  He thought whoever’s behind the Centipede project might come after me because of the serum.”  He balled his hands into fists at his side.  “Damn it.  I thought it was strange when he said it, but I didn’t…  I should have realized…”  His voice was thick and hoarse with tension and mounting anger.  The monster who’d taken his daughter had been there right in front of him and he hadn’t noticed it.  He looked down in shame, and his voice dropped to a murmur.  “He asked where I was going, and I told him.  I told him Sarah and I were going to the park.  He probably called her and let her know where to be and when.”

In the silence that followed, that conclusion lingered.  It was sobering, upsetting really, but he couldn’t afford to let himself be upset.  Natasha was right; that got them nothing, and they needed to move forward.  “We need to bring Fury in on this,” Natasha eventually announced.  Her voice was quiet, grave, like she was anticipating an argument.  Both Tony and Steve were far too distraught to manage it, but she supplied her reasoning anyway.  “If Ward was involved, then SHIELD is compromised.  He needs to know.”

Tony closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little.  “How can you be sure that–”

“–he’s not compromised, too?” Natasha finished.  The inventor wearily appraised her.  “Because I know him.  I trust him.  I know you don’t, but you trust me.  And I’d never do anything to put Sarah or Pepper in danger.”  Tony looked torn.  Frankly, Steve was as well.  All the doubts he’d had about SHIELD over the last few years reared inside him, ugly and insistent.  Still, he knew Natasha was right about this, too.  They needed Fury’s help.  He had the power and influence to move a great deal of people and resources quickly, and, if more than Ward was involved, he had the strength to tear SHIELD apart to find how deep the conspiracy and corruption went.

Tony sighed.  “Alright, but I want to move fast.  We need everything we can on this Agent Ward, whoever the hell he is.  And whatever his relationship is with that Garrett guy.  And I want all the data SHIELD has on this Centipede project, who at AIM or Quinn International is involved, where they’re making it, how they’re making it…  Everything.  Banner and I need to pick it apart.  I want to know everything they know.  And I want eyes and ears on SHIELD.”

“Already done.”

The new voice took them aback.  It was oddly familiar, one Steve had heard before but not for years.  They turned and looked to the door.  Eyes widened.  Hearts stopped.  Minds tripped on a singular thought: this couldn’t be real.  This was a ghost.

But it wasn’t.  Phil Coulson gave a sheepish smile.  “I, uh…  I think it’s time we talked.”

* * *

It was well past two in the morning, but not a soul in Stark Tower was sleeping.  Two teams were now gathered in the Avengers’ main situation room.  The Avengers themselves were shocked at this most recent turn of events to say the least.  The trauma of the night before notwithstanding, none of them seemed capable of processing, let alone accepting, what was plainly the truth.  Phil Coulson, the gentle, practical SHIELD agent who’d helped bring them together, whose _death_ had forged the essential, tentative bonds between them during the Chitauri incident that would later grow into friendship and family over the next four years…  _Phil Coulson was alive._   That was astounding.  Admittedly, Steve hadn’t known Coulson all that well before Loki had killed him, but he’d seemed to be a really decent man: honest, kind-hearted, cool and level-headed, unimposing but more than capable.  The others, with the exception of Bruce, had had much more extensive dealings with him.  He’d been friends with Pepper, friends with Thor, a mentor and a leader to Clint and Natasha.  Steve could still remember the sense of loss, the shock and grief of it, in the wake of losing Coulson.

Apparently, that had been something of a show for their benefit.

“You mind explaining this again?” Tony said.  He looked drawn and pale, his hair sticking up in all directions.  His arm was in sling, and his eyes were ringed in shadow.  Thanks to another hefty dose of analgesics, though, he was upright and mostly functioning.  Steve sat next to him, feeling as beaten down and awful as Tony looked.  “You died, and Fury sent you to Tahiti, and that somehow… made it better.”

Coulson was dressed in a dapper suit, and he looked _exactly_ the same as when Steve had seen him last.  Well, perhaps not exactly the same.  He was still well put together with closely cropped brown hair and a banal face.  But there was regret in his eyes now, and a certain level of sadness to his expression.  He seemed a bit worn, a bit wearied.  Changed in ways that weren’t entirely obvious or measurable.  “It’s a magical place,” he responded with a soft smile.  Tony didn’t look amused.  “I really can’t explain it.  It wasn’t my choice, regardless, and I’d rather not waste the time right now.  Not when Ms. Potts and the Captain’s daughter are in danger.”

“You can’t just brush this aside,” Tony returned tightly.  He glanced at him teammates, perhaps looking for support in pursing this further.  Most of them looked about as willing to let it go as he was.  “Fury lied to us.”

“Not… technically,” Coulson replied.  “I did die.”

“I do not find this humorous,” Thor returned.  “We buried you, my friend.  We mourned you.  It was a trying and difficult experience.”

“I’m so sorry,” Coulson returned.  “If I could have spared you that, I would have.  But by the time they brought me back to active duty, it was already said and done.  They assigned me a new team, a new mission…  There was no going back.”

“Why lie about it for so long?” Clint asked.  He more than any of them had taken Coulson’s apparent death the hardest.  He had told Steve once that, as he had done for Natasha, Coulson had been the one to pull him into SHIELD, to rescue him from the dark world of which he’d been a part.  Coulson had been his handler, a teacher, a friend, someone to show him to fight for right and justice.  Someone to set him on the right path.  Losing him had been devastating.  “It’s been four years!”

“After the Battle of New York, Director Fury was afraid that learning about Coulson’s survival would jeopardize your ability to function as a team,” Agent May supplied.  She stood to Coulson’s left, close, almost protectively so.  She also looked the same as she had the last time Steve had seen her on the day they’d brought Sarah to him.  Her shoulder-length black hair was sleek and glossy.  She wore a SHIELD uniform, her hands folded together in front of her, and her face was cool and emotionless.  “Since it was his sacrifice that brought you together, he worried that learning you’d been deceived would cause problems.”

“No offense to Fury, well, actually, _a lot_ of offense to Fury, but we’re not children.  We can handle it,” Tony snapped.  “I’ve about had it to here with SHIELD playing us.”

“We were under orders not to reveal Agent Coulson’s status,” claimed another young woman on Coulson’s team by the name of Jemma Simmons.  She was British and some sort of genius in genetics and biochemistry.  Pretty and soft-spoken, she seemed like a nice girl, though better suited for lab work than field work (well, maybe not.  She had a spark to her – she had to have one to be so boldly defending her boss in front of the Avengers).  “It wasn’t our choice.”

“Jemma – Agent Simmons – is right,” the young man next to her added.  This guy, Agent Leo Fitz, seemed nervous and vastly more intimidated than Simmons to be in Stark Tower talking to the likes of the Avengers.  He had curly red hair and a thick Scottish brogue.  Coulson had introduced him as his team’s tech expert, and he seemed particularly afraid of Tony.  “And it wasn’t just us.  Director Fury wanted it kept quiet.”

“Hence why nothing showed on the mission logs in operations control,” Natasha said tightly.  “Not about your mission to Tianjin or anywhere else.”  When May had first rescued the baby, Natasha and Clint had spent days sleuthing around the helicarrier, SHIELD HQ in Times Square, and the Triskelion in DC, searching for answers as to what team had found Sarah.  All of their efforts had been fruitless.  If Fury had ordered everything sealed and everyone gagged, their inability to learn anything made sense.  “Everyone knew about this except us.”

“Preserving the integrity of the Avengers has always been Fury’s top priority,” Coulson reaffirmed.

“Wonderful,” Bruce muttered.

Clint wasn’t appeased.  Something told Steve there wasn’t anything anyone could say to help him accept this.  “Why didn’t you say something when you brought Sarah to Steve?  We weren’t in any danger of falling apart then, and you were right there!”

Coulson sighed and looked at Steve.  Again, there was such grief in his eyes.  “It was my call to have Agent May bring the baby to the helicarrier when we found her.  Once we realized what – _who_ – she was, I couldn’t in good conscience just follow protocol and deliver her to the Sandbox for testing.”  He sighed heavily, like he was rethinking some decision and wishing he’d taken a different path.  “After that, Director Fury came to me and we discussed revealing what had happened to me to all of you, but things were already so emotionally charged that he decided it would be better to continue to keep the truth hidden.”

“Like this time is any better!” Tony yelled.  “Pepper’s in the hands of some crazy traitors!  And they’re going to use Sarah to–”  His voice broke off in pain, and he glanced at Steve with watery, furious eyes.  “This is BS.  Fury’s sitting up there on high, deciding who gets to learn what _when_ , while people we love are in danger.  I’m done with it.  Once this is over, we are through with SHIELD.”

“Tony…” Steve murmured.

Tony’s eyes flashed with a threat that he wasn’t about to back down, not even for his captain and friend.  He normally had no patience for SHIELD, and between his fear, worry, and pain, he was worn thin to the point of breaking.  “No, Cap.  _No._   If this Agent Ward works for Coulson, then how do we know this isn’t another twist in some kind of plot to lure us into–”

“It’s not,” Coulson insisted.  His jaw clenched slightly with desire to prove himself.  “I know you don’t have much reason to believe me.  Heck, if our situations were reversed, I don’t think I could just accept any of this.  Not that I’m alive.  Not that SHIELD has been lying to you for four years.  And not that we’re trying to help you.”  His eyes settled on Steve again, like he was hoping if he could win over Captain America, if he could convince Captain America to trust him, he would gain the faith of the team.  That was logical.  All Steve knew of Coulson, though, had been based upon those few fleeting minutes flying with him out to the helicarrier.  The guy had had a vintage collection of Captain America trading cards and had designed him a new suit after he’d come out of the ice.  He had _been_ there when he’d been unconscious from the ice.  Coulson had admitted that.  Before, Steve hadn’t thought much of it.  But now, knowing what SHIELD had stolen from him when he’d been asleep and in their care…

“But that’s exactly why we’re here.  To help.”  Coulson’s voice was firm, trying to instill faith.  He looked at his team, at Simmons and Fitz.  At May.  And at Skye.  The young woman had changed her hair since Steve had seen her last to make it shorter and straighter, but she was still… a presence.  That was the best way to describe her.  A sort of powerful presence.  “We’re going to do _everything_ we can to help you get them back.  Fury’s orders can be damned.  I don’t want to involve him until we know what we’re dealing with, and I think you all will agree with that.”

Steve stared at him, this new team of SHIELD agents that they hadn’t really known had existed until now.  He couldn’t quite make sense of this, and he really didn’t know how to feel.  The room was quiet.  The Avengers were around him, waiting (even Tony) for him to make a call.  Forgive the duplicity.  Trust.  Believe what Coulson was saying.  _Ward was one of them.  And Ward took Sarah._   Or not.  _Coulson made the call that brought Sarah to the helicarrier.  To you._   He swallowed through a dry throat, closing eyes that were itchy and burning, wishing for once that things could be simple.  Then he gathered his tattered composure.  “If you think you can help, then help.  Please.”

That was all it took.  Skye came forward quickly, reaching into the pocket of her sweater for a USB drive.  “Mr. Stark, can you get this onto your mainframe?”

Tony still seemed hesitant, raw and emotional, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Steve.  It was subtle, as subtle as Steve’s nod in return.  Bruce caught sight of that.  “Tony, don’t get up.”  Banner was across the room to get the USB drive in a flash.  Thor moved behind Tony to drop an encouraging hand on his uninjured shoulder.  Normally Tony didn’t care much for personal contact, but he sagged wearily in his seat beside Steve, content with the meager comfort.

Skye walked with Bruce, talking as she did.  “The minute we heard about the attack, I figured something was up with Ward.  He is – _was_ – my SO; he’s been training me in armed combat, SHIELD protocols, you know, things like that.  He’s a huge stickler for the rules, and he didn’t show this afternoon.  No message.  No nothing.”

“He’s also made a lot of unusual requests for time off recently,” May added.  She folded her arms across her chest.  “Finding excuses to come into HQ.  We’re on missions a lot, so it was definitely unusual behavior.”

Natasha didn’t look pleased.  “And you approved them?”

Coulson drew a deep breath, again looking patently regretful.  “I didn’t have any reason not to.  He has a stellar record, and despite having something of a rough start fitting in with us, he’s been a great asset to our team.  He claimed he had personal business to attend to, and knowing what I did of his past–”

“What about his past?” Steve asked.

Coulson shared a look with Skye, the sort that made Steve think they weren’t going to be honest.  If they were there to help, then they needed to be honest.  He resisted the urge to get frustrated and react accordingly.  And it wasn’t needed because Coulson explained.  “He had a tough childhood.  He doesn’t talk about it much, but he came from an abusive home.  Abusive older brother.  Abusive parents.  It was bad.”

Steve winced.  “This didn’t raise any red flags on a psych eval?”  He knew most SHIELD agents had to have routine evaluations by a staff psychologist.  Past abuse plus problems “fitting in” (whatever that meant exactly) plus this sort of behavior equaled a huge red flag in his book.

“He’s surprisingly grounded,” Coulson said.  “And he’s very good at what he does.”

“No kidding,” Clint said snidely.  He was obviously still smarting about this whole thing, shooting his former handler a glare.

“If you flagged difficult pasts and personal problems as a cause for concern, most SHIELD specialists would be grounded,” Coulson defended.  He stared at Clint and Natasha, as if to remind them that they themselves fit that bill.

It wasn’t an accusation, but Clint took it as one.  “I don’t care about his family issues.”

“You should, Clint,” Coulson gently returned.  The familiarity with which he was addressing Clint didn’t seem entirely welcomed.  “I have a feeling Ward’s involvement in this plot, whatever it may end up being, is due more to family allegiance than anything else.  Once we found out he was involved, I had Skye hack SHIELD’s mainframe to figure out what he’s been doing on these trips of his.”

Skye nodded.  “And I found something interesting.  And disturbing.”  Steve grimaced, grinding his teeth harder and harder.  “He’s been in New York and DC meeting with John Garrett.”

“Right.  The guy he was here with.”  Tony’s voice was snippy and irritated because this wasn’t news.  And going over stuff they already knew was _wasting time._   “So what.”

“So Garret was _his_ SO,” May said.

Skye’s fingers danced at the computer terminal.  The data on the USB device appeared on the holographic displays.  It was a bunch of files, profiles on Ward and Garrett, records from their pasts.  “Way more than just his SO.  This guy busted Ward out of juvenile hall after he torched their family home in Massachusetts.  Apparently in 1999 he went AWOL from military school, stole a car, and burned the place to the ground.”  A few images of a destroyed house appeared, along with arrest and court records.  “Garrett pulled him out of detention and recruited him into SHIELD.  I don’t have a lot of data on that, but I think… I don’t know.”  She sighed in frustration.  “I know Ward.  Well, at least I thought I did.  I think he cares a lot about this Garrett guy.  He mentioned him once or twice while we were training.  It could have been nothing, but why reveal his connection to him unless it meant something to him?  Maybe he’s just doing his old SO a favor, or maybe it’s a lot deeper than that.”

Steve had to side with Clint on this.  Part of him knew that was a little negligent, like a knee-jerk reaction to simply hate this man because of what he’d done, but, honestly, he didn’t see the relevance of this.  “What about Garrett?”

“Well, that’s where this gets disturbing.”  She was bringing up more data onto the holographic display terminal.  Some of them were records from the Sandbox.  Four year old records.  “I investigated this back when we found the baby in Tianjin.  Back then, I couldn’t make any headway on figuring out who stole your DNA.  It was really frustrating.  Security footage showed nothing.  No signs of an attack or theft at the Sandbox’s vaults.  No evidence of anyone unusual coming in.  And I ran background checks on everyone there.  Nothing.”

“We know,” Tony said irately, frowning in weariness.

Natasha looked frustrated.  “We did the same.”

“But that was before we _knew_ it had to be an inside job,” Skye said.  She was pouring through the documents to find a manifest from 2012.  The selection box moved quickly through hundreds of inventory items until it came to the one that corresponded to Steve’s samples.  Seeing it up there made Steve clench his jaw even tighter.  “The last time anyone accessed your samples was in November 2012, about six months after they found you, Captain.  It was logged by Agent Felix Blake.”

Tony’s face immediately darkened further (apparently that was possible).  He shared an unhappy glance with Steve.  “Yeah, we know him.  Class-A jerk.”

“Well, he was the last one we can be certain dealt with the samples.  Which wouldn’t really cause much suspicion, since he’s sort of in charge of everything there, except now we’ve figured out the other end of this.”  She brought up some more documents.  Logs from the Hub.  Mission reports.  She located one.  “About a week after he accessed the samples, he consulted on a mission in Beijing.  It was about raiding a bioweapon factory there.  Guess who led the assault.”

“Garrett,” Clint said unhappily.

Skye pursed her lips a little, as though the answer distressed her.  “Yeah.”

“You think Blake delivered Cap’s samples to Garrett then.”  Bruce’s eyes narrowed.  He looked over at Tony.  “That would explain why he was so desperate to get his hands on Sarah when we brought her here.”  Steve felt sick.  At the time, he’d just written Blake off as, as Tony put it, a jerk.  Someone so intent to do his job that he’d been cruel and unrelenting in trying to keep Sarah contained.  Someone who thought he was doing what was right.  Obviously he’d been wrong.  _Again._

Tony was feeling similarly angry.  “Son of a…  I can’t believe this.”

“What’s worse is that when I made this connection, I tried to track down Blake.  He also seems to be on ‘leave’.”  Skye used air quotations around that.  “Convenient.”

“Blake is a biochemical specialist.  Along with him, a few other SHIELD chemists, geneticists, and biologists have disappeared from their posts all around the world over the last twenty-four hours,” May added.  “We haven’t been able to track them.”

“Are they all traitors?  Preparing to fix this Centipede serum?” Thor asked.  He folded his muscular arms over his chest, regarding the SHIELD agents warily.  “How deep does this deception and corruption go within your ranks?”  That _was_ an accusation, plain as day,

Coulson appeared worried.  “We don’t know,” he admitted.

Steve’s patience failed him.  “It doesn’t matter right now,” he said firmly, his eyes shooting around the group to force them to refocus.  “We need to find Ward.”

Skye nodded, obviously hearing the stress bleeding into his voice.  She sighed, wiping away the data she’d brought up to display some new information.  “Right.  Well, that’s what I started working on.  I know SHIELD’s been running a face trace, but I started earlier and with better information about _who_ we’re actually looking for.  I cross-referenced the list of known labs, warehouses, and offices associated with AIM or Quinn International on the East Coast.”

“Assuming they didn’t take them on a plane,” Natasha reminded coolly.

“Assuming,” Skye said, nonplussed.  “Narrowing the search area down by that has helped speed this along, but if I can get access to the computing cluster in the Tower, I think–”

Tony winced.  “JARVIS, do it.”

“Done, sir.”

The progress bar on the monitor slowly started to move faster as the computer churned through the data.  Skye had seemingly hacked into every wireless device to which she could get access.  She worked more at the computer terminal for a moment, using security cameras and cell phones from Maine to Florida to search for signs of Ward, Pepper, or Sarah.  Steve forced himself to stay calm and patient as he watched.  “I fail to understand why this man kidnapped Sarah,” Thor admitted from behind Steve and Tony after a moment.  Steve turned to appraise his friend.  “If they want the serum, she cannot provide it.  And if they want you, would it not make more sense to immediately ransom her?”

It did.  It had been hours, and there hadn’t been a call or any contact at all.  “And why take Pepper?” Bruce added.  “Unless they’re using her to keep Sarah calm.”

“Sarah’s three,” Natasha reminded.  “There’s not much she can do to cause trouble.”  Steve stiffened, and she reached from her seat beside him to lay her hand over his on the table.  The open display of comfort and affection went seemingly unnoticed.

“Can the super soldier serum really fix this Centipede serum?” Clint asked, turning to Bruce.

Bruce was part of the way through a shrug when Simmons’ soft, feminine voice replied.  “In theory, yes.  But it will take time, probably loads of it.”

“I thought it was impossible to extract the serum from Steve’s blood,” Thor said.

“I believe it is,” Simmons answered again before Bruce could.  “The serum’s locked in your genetic code.  However, they don’t necessarily need a pure sample of the serum.  They simply need to combine what they can of it with what they have enough of Centipede, at least enough to stabilize it.  It’s a process that hasn’t been investigated, but still, I imagine it will prove difficult and time-consuming.  Using your daughter as leverage to keep you prisoner is their best chance of correcting the flaws with Centipede.”  Simmons winced.  “I’m so sorry, Captain Rogers.”

Steve nodded.  “Well, maybe that will work in our favor.  When they make the ransom, I can–”

“Yeah, how about ‘no’ to that,” Tony said sharply.  Steve turned to him, his own temper flaring.  “That’s the last thing we need.  You throwing yourself on the wire.  Then they have Sarah, Pepper, and you.  Oh, and _exactly_ what they need to fix their evil potion.”

“Tony–”

“Mr. Stark’s right, Captain,” Coulson said plainly.  Both Tony and Steve looked to him.  He wasn’t at all dissuaded by the glares of two hurt, angry, and worried-sick Avengers.  “We can’t risk them getting what they want.”

Steve’s frustration surged.  “So what?” he started, rising out of his seat.  “We let them…”  He couldn’t even say it.  _Hurt Sarah._

May’s eyes colored in a shade of grief for a moment.  “There are literally dozens of Centipede-enhanced soldiers out there that we know of and enough labs to pump out significantly more.  If they correct the serum, we could be dealing with an army capable of crushing average people.  That can’t happen.”

He knew he should care about that. Logic dictated that that _should_ be the only thing that mattered, preventing these evil men from getting their hands on a weapon like this.  It sounded like all the worst parts of Extremis combined with a home brew of AIM’s own, and if the super soldier serum stabilized that or, worse, _enhanced_ it…  “I’m not letting these people hurt Sarah.  Or Pepper.  Or _anybody._ ”

“No one is suggesting we allow that to happen,” May said.

“Oh, yeah?” Clint snapped.  The tension that had been simmering in the background was escalating, and no one seemed much inclined to stop it.  “Then what do you suggest, Agent?  Since _your_ team seems to be the one who got us into this mess.”

Coulson’s group shared hurt looks.  What Clint said wasn’t terribly well founded, but Steve couldn’t help but agree.  Ward had been one of them.  Ward had _touched_ Sarah when she’d been found _three years ago_ and no one had noticed he’d been bad, dangerous, _a traitor_ …  “Give us the data,” Natasha said softly, glancing among the assembled SHIELD agents and Avengers.  “Let us take it from here.”

Coulson sighed.  “I don’t think that’s the best option.”

“I am not certain I can trust any of this,” Thor admitted lowly, his expression taut with a doubtful, warning glare.  “Or that I can trust any of you.  You have sacrificed your integrity with each day you deceived us.  I care not if you were following orders; loyalty and honesty are absolutes.”

“Guys, don’t make this worse by ignoring us just because–”  Natasha’s harsh glance shut Skye up pretty effectively.  But not for long.  She gave an exaggerated sigh and turned away from the holographic terminal where the face trace was running rapidly and in earnest now.  “Look, I realize this looks bad.  We all do.  But Phil – Agent Coulson – is here _against_ orders, compromising our own mission.  That’s how much he wants to help, how much we _all_ want to help.”  Her intense eyes centered on Steve.  “Captain Rogers, I never stopped looking for answers about your daughter.  _Never._   And Simmons and Fitz…  We all spent days and days pouring through the data from that lab, anything we could get our hands on.  Even weeks, _months_ after it was all said and done, we still kept searching.  And Agent May kept in contact with Director Fury about Sarah all the way from the moment we brought her to the helicarrier up until last month, trying to get updates to make sure she was okay…  Sorry!”  May shot Skye a vicious, icy glare that reminded Steve all too much of Natasha.  Skye flushed, smiled sheepishly, and shrugged.  “Next time encrypt your messages better.”

Steve wasn’t touched.  Well, not enough to douse his hurt and his fear.  “Agent, I appreciate–”

“We’re here to _help_ ,” Skye insisted.  “Please let us do that.  Ward…  I’m not kidding.  I know him.  And I think I could get through to him if we could find him.  Whatever reason he did this, I don’t think he means Sarah any harm.  When he found her…   If he was working for AIM or Quinn or Garrett all this time, why not take her to them then?  I just…  I just don’t think he’s bad.”

That wasn’t the thing to say to a room full of concerned, angry, _frightened_ Avengers.  “You don’t think,” Clint repeated hotly.  It was more than obvious that he’d had enough.  He was normally among the cooler heads on the team, collected and not easily riled.  But seeing Coulson and having people he loved in danger had shattered his composure, and the anger was pouring out.  And, Clint being Clint, it was a barely-contained deadly threat.  “This is Captain America’s daughter and Iron Man’s wife!  Our _family_ , and you don’t think!”

“Clint, please,” Coulson said softly.

“Give us the data,” Tony demanded, “and get the hell out.  We are _done_ with SHIELD.”

The room turned silent, Coulson flanked by his team on one side, and Steve surrounded by the Avengers on the other.  Whatever he’d imagined could have come from this unexpected meeting, _this_ hadn’t been it.  It seemed like any tentative alliance was fading right before their eyes, and Steve was frankly too emotionally battered to care.  He just wanted his baby back.

Thankfully, the computer beeped.  JARVIS could always be counted upon to diffuse a tense situation.  “I believe Agent Skye’s algorithm has located Agent Ward.”

Everyone in the room practically lurched to get closer to the display.  Hope surged through Steve like a jolt of electricity, and he was crossing the room in a flash to stand next to the young woman.  “Where?” he asked, his quick eyes devouring the maps before them.

Skye was capably manipulating the results, bringing them up and zooming in.  “Outside of DC.  In Stafford, Virginia.  A gas station security camera caught him.”

Steve hardly needed to give the order.  Already the Avengers were up.  Natasha and Clint shared curt nods with him before running from the room to get their gear.  “I’ll fly,” Agent May declared, and she was following them before Steve could argue.

“Skye and I will coordinate from here,” Coulson offered, standing beside his hacker.  He glanced at Steve.  “Assuming that’s alright with you, Captain.”

Steve looked at the young woman.  “Can you stay with him?”

Skye nodded confidently.  “I’ve already got satellites tracking him.  It’s the same car as before.”

 _The same car.  Maybe he hasn’t delivered Sarah and Pepper to Garrett yet._   “Don’t let him out of your sight,” Steve warned.

“I won’t.”

Then he turned to Bruce.  “Bruce, I know you’re not going to want to, but I need you to stay,” he said in a softer tone.  “Please.  Work with Agent Simmons on the Centipede serum.  If we can stabilize it, then we can use it against them.  If it can’t be stabilized–”

“–then we know we don’t have to worry about them getting their hands on the super soldier serum,” Bruce finished as he understood.  Steve nodded.  And that meant he could surrender himself to Garrett without threat of them getting what they wanted.  He would gladly sell himself to buy time.  “And if we can find a way to neutralize Centipede altogether…”

“I’ve been working on that very thing, Doctor Banner,” Simmons said, her white face flushing with equal parts excitement and nervousness.  “Oh, my word, this is such an honor!  I’ve got loads of data to show you, but I’m having trouble with the sequencing on this–”

Bruce wasn’t going just yet, and Simmons stopped talking once she realized.  The physicist looked worriedly at Steve and Thor.  “You sure you won’t need me?”

It was silly to even ask, not with Hawkeye, Black Widow, Captain America, and Thor heading off against one man.  However, Steve knew why.  Staying behind while the rest of the team went out to find their missing loved ones…  He couldn’t imagine how that would feel.  As much as he wanted to focus on finding Sarah and Pepper, though, he couldn’t dismiss the implications this had for the safety of _everyone._   He couldn’t.  Tony was right.  So was Coulson.  They needed to stop Centipede.  “We’ll be fine.  I doubt this guy can take on four Avengers.”

“Five,” Tony corrected.  He had come to stand at Steve’s side without Steve even noticing.  Worried pierced Steve’s resolve, and his hard expression collapsed with it.  “Don’t,” Tony immediately warned.  He dropped his tone but not his eyes, his voice certain and his face set into a determined glare.  “Don’t you dare.  I’m coming.  She’s my wife.  My wife, Cap.”  Steve couldn’t argue.  Not with the pain in Tony’s voice.  “And Sarah’s my girl, too.  _I’m coming._ ”

Steve glanced at Thor, but the Asgardian only gave a small, curt nod.  Tony was right.  And if their roles were reversed, there was no force in the universe that could make him stay behind and sit out this fight.  “Alright,” Steve said.

Tony didn’t smile.  The only thing more striking than his haggard face were his feverish eyes, so uncannily and disturbingly bright.  Burning with the need to save his family.  “Gear up,” Stark said to everyone left.  “Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Tony, you see him?”

The response that came back over the quinjet’s audio system was curt and pinched with pain and anger.  “Yeah, I see him.”  Skye was feeding them coordinates, and now that Iron Man had Ward’s car in sight, he wasn’t going to get away.  Steve stood behind the cockpit, watching as Agent May and Clint capably guided the quinjet through the night.  Rain streaked over the windshield as they flew low through the clouds.  The sky lit up around them with ragged bolts of lightning.  “Coming up fast.”

“Easy,” Clint warned, banking the jet to the left to get a better view of the highway upon which the SUV was driving.  “We don’t know if Pepper and Sarah are still in there.”

“Noted,” Tony snapped.  His patience had been steadily eroding since they’d suited up and left Stark Tower about fifteen minutes ago.  He’d been downright prickly, speeding ahead of the quinjet and staying out in front despite Clint’s repeated requests to stick together.  Steve didn’t think Tony would just fly off the handle (even if he was literally doing it) and brashly attack Ward.  If Pepper and Sarah weren’t with him, they needed Ward alive and intact to answer questions.  _No.  Sarah’s going to be there with him._ This was going to be it.  They’d stop that car and they’d find their missing loved ones right then and there.  This nightmare would be over, and Sarah would be back in his arms and he’d _never_ let her go again.

As much as he wanted ( _so desperately_ ) to believe that, he knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

Turbulence rocked the jet.  Normally that wouldn’t have been anything to Steve, but he was so lost in his worry that he was nearly knocked to the side.  Natasha was there to steady him, offering him a concerned look.  “Anybody else get the feeling this could be a trap?” she said grimly, her mouth tight in a frown.

“Aye,” Thor grumbled.  His eyes were dark and malignant with anger, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder if some of this thunderstorm wasn’t subconsciously because of him.  Honestly, Steve had considered that this could be a ruse as well.  It seemed… _sloppy_ to be driving two high-profile kidnap victims on a major highway like this, especially since Ward was SHIELD and knew exactly what would be chasing him.  It was almost like he was waving a flag at them, screaming “come get me!” at the top of his lungs.  But they couldn’t back off or give up.  _No chance._

“What are your orders, Cap?” Tony asked.

Steve drew a deep breath to gather himself.  “Agent Coulson, how are we doing on the blockade?”

Coulson’s voice came back over the comm link.  “State troopers have already closed off the expressway ahead.  He’s not going to be able to get off.  Thank God it’s middle of the night, but we still have to careful for civilian casualties.”

“Easy on the guns,” Steve said directly onto the Avengers’ private line.

“There’s a stretch of road ahead about three miles long without any exits.  That’s a good place to pin him,” Coulson announced, and Skye displayed the map on the quinjet’s console for May and Clint.

“Alright,” Steve responded.  “Tony, can you get out in front of him?”

“With pleasure.”  The long, golden streaks of Iron Man’s thrusters disappeared completely into the clouds ahead as Tony zoomed lower to the ground.  Steve didn’t miss the tension in his friend’s voice, and he prayed Tony could control his anger.  He knew how hard it was going to be.  He could feel it himself, this itching, _awful_ need to do something.  And he could feel it in Thor’s taut form beside him and he could see it in the way Natasha was subtly grinding her teeth.  The driving need to save Sarah and Pepper needed to be tempered with restraint or something told him they’d play right into Garrett and Ward’s hands.

“Clint, get us behind them.  Nat, Thor, and I will go down, block his escape from the rear, and keep the civilians away.  I take it this guy knows how to get himself out of bad situations,” Steve said.

May nodded, glancing over her shoulder at him once as she flipped a few switches on the quinjet’s panel.  “I would say he’s an expert,” she tersely declared.

“He’s not going to escape the Avengers,” Tony angrily countered.  “I don’t care who he is.  Permission to engage, Cap?”

“Do it,” Steve said.  Clint throttled down the jet.  Ahead, the long stretch of highway appeared, completely black save for the headlights and taillights of cars.  In the thick, stormy night, it was very difficult to tell one vehicle from another.  The conditions for cornering Ward weren’t ideal at all.  “Tony, can you mark the car somehow?  We’re flying blind here.”

Maybe a mile down the road, something exploded.  Steve’s heart jumped painfully in his chest, and even though he knew Tony would never do anything to hurt anyone (or put Sarah and Pepper in worse danger), for a moment he was terrified.  Then he realized Tony had blown up a road sign.  Iron Man was standing in the middle of the busy thruway, car horns blaring and people screaming.  Steve gritted his teeth, grabbing a handhold on the top of the jet as Clint swung them around, hovering lower to the ground.  “Clear!” the archer called.

Steve turned to his teammates.  “Nat, get the people out.  Thor, you’re with me.”

They nodded.  Any sign of emotion was gone from Natasha’s cold eyes, and Thor clenched the pommel of Mjölnir tighter.  Once the jet was stable, Steve ran to the back and slammed his palm onto the release that would lower the ramp.  The rear opened, miserably slow to his impatient, racing heart, and the second it was wide enough for him to jump, he did.

The rain was driving, hot and heavy, but that didn’t deter him.  Thor was immediately at his side, running with him on the slick, glistening asphalt to where Tony was preventing Ward from going further.  Around them people were screaming, tires wildly squealing as cars tried to back up and get away from the situation.  Steve heard Natasha ordering people back, trying to get them away.  “Tony?” Steve called as they wove through the mess.

“He’s trying to turn around!”

Steve saw him now.  Glass shattered and a gun was firing.  _Sarah._   He ran faster, jumping over stopped cars, barreling through the traffic as the black SUV spun around and attempted to turn.  The highway was divided, but the median was only grass, and the car streaked through the deluge to speed onto the other side.  Ward knew they wouldn’t fire on him, that they wouldn’t risk destroying or even damaging the car.  Of course he did, and he was going to use that to his advantage.  “Tony!”

“I’m on him!”  Iron Man streaked overhead, bathed in the violent glow of lightning.  Steve turned and ran, ran as fast as he could.  Thor was gone from his side.  The demigod landed with a heavy thud that reverberated almost as loudly as the thunder booming over them.  He was right in front of the SUV, once more trying to trap it.  Ward turned wildly to the left, the car tipping precariously on the edges of its tires.  Steve thought he heard his daughter screaming.  Tony obviously did, too.  He didn’t dare fire at the car, though.  Ward got the SUV under control and sped past Thor, the demigod diving to avoid being hit.  “Damn it!  This is ridiculous!”

“Blow the tires!” Clint shouted.

“Not when he’s going sixty!”

Overhead, the quinjet pursued him, keeping a floodlight on him now so the Avengers could better track him.  Steve was losing his patience.  _Earth’s mightiest heroes, and we can’t stop one SHIELD agent._   He wasn’t interested in playing some sort of twisted cat and mouse game.  “Get me on the car!” he commanded through the comm link.

Thor was with him instantly, coming from nowhere and hoisting him up by the back of his suit.  Steve quickly overcame the vertigo of flying, rain splattering into his face and eyes as he was tossed onto the top of the SUV.  He landed hard on his knees, sliding instantly backward due to Ward’s excessive speed and the wet surface of the roof.  He wrenched his shield forward, driving it into the passenger side of the vehicle only far enough to stop his tumble.  A gun went off again and again, bullets puncturing the roof.  He dodged them but nearly lost his grip as Ward tried to dislodge him by spinning and shaking the car.  Agilely, he rolled to the left, maintaining a hold on his shield to avoid getting shot or thrown.  His slick boots found purchase on the foot rail that ran the length of the SUV, and he slid down the side of the car and held on tight.  He couldn’t see inside very well, the windows tinted and everything so dark and wet.  His heart was thundering, breath locked in his throat.  When the quinjet’s searchlight found the car again, he was terrified to see the car was completely _empty._   _No!_   “It’s driving itself!  Tony, it’s driving itself!”

Tony snarled a curse, but before Steve could even fully process what was happening, Ward popped up in the back seat.  He swung something around, something long and silver, and the next thing Steve knew, he heard the awful sound of a grenade launcher firing.  At this range he could barely yank his shield down to protect himself before the RPG exploded against the front passenger door.  The impact blew it (and him) clear off the car.  Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think about anything much beyond the pain.  Fire rushed over him.  Then there was the awful sensation of flying weightlessly and uncontrollably, of spinning and tumbling and _falling_.  It seemed to go on forever, a blur of flames and rain and blackness, before he hit the road hard.

“Cap’s down!  Cap!”

“Iron Man, take the car out!”

“Stop him!  God, is Steve alright?”

Steve groaned and opened his eyes, staring up in the flashing sky and driving rain.  The vertigo nearly made him black out again, but the low hum of needing to find Sarah – _Sarah’s not here she’s not here where is she?_ – drove him.  His back was positively _burning_ , and he realized why after an endless second spent gathering his senses.  He was a hundred feet from the smoking remains of the SUV, crumpled on the side of the road.  The car was burning.  _Oh, no._ “Steve, are you okay?”  Natasha’s voice sounded miles away.  “Steve!”

He pushed himself to his feet, not caring about the stinging agony up and down his back and flank.  Thor was running toward him, sodden cape heavy against his back.  They were both soaked and sputtering in the rain.  “Steve,” he gasped, worry cracking the hard visage of his face.  “Wait.  Allow me to help you.  Wait!”

Steve wasn’t waiting.  He was staggering but regaining his poise with every frantic beat of his straining heart and every determined step.  His boots thundered across the wet highway, past cars that had been abandoned and an overturned tractor trailer.  It took a seeming eternity for him to reach the flaming wreckage.  Had Ward been in there?  Was he dead, and with him any chance of finding Sarah gone?  _No.  Please, God.  No!_

But it wasn’t as he feared.  Iron Man was there, and he had his catch by the scruff of his neck.  Steve nearly melted in relief.  That didn’t last long.  Anger came, hot and harsh, and he stalked toward the SHIELD agent.  He grabbed him right out of Tony’s grasp, ignoring the shouts of his teammates.  He hauled Ward with him, the man feebly struggling but completely unable to break free of Captain America’s grip on his shirt.  Steve slammed him into the side of another car, the door denting with the force of it.  Ward was already hurt; he had a gash on his temple and if his wheezing was any indication probably some bruised or broken ribs.  But that didn’t stop Steve.  “Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, getting right in Ward’s face and letting every pound of muscle and height and strength he had bear down on the other man.  “Where is she?  _Where is she?_ ”

Ward gave a bloody sputter of a cough.  But his eyes were still empty, listless, not even afraid.  Steve gritted his teeth, struggling so hard to hold himself back.  Now that he had Ward at his mercy, the urge to _hurt_ this man for what he’d done was almost overwhelming.  He’d never felt like this before.  No matter how many times he’d been bullied, knocked down, and beaten up, he’d _never_ wanted to hurt back.  “Where is she?  Where did you take her?”

Ward still didn’t answer.  Steve’s emotions got the better of him, and he shoved Ward rougher into the car behind them.  His voice broke.  “Tell me where she is!”

“Cap.”  It was Natasha.  She was right beside him, tenderly but confidently setting a hand on his shoulder.  “Don’t.  It won’t save her.”

Steve breathed heavily, the rain pounding down around them and turning Natasha’s hair nearly black.  She was there, grounding him.  And Thor.  And Tony.  Iron Man was a solid presence, his repulsors raised and aimed at Ward as if there was any way he could escape or fight back.  But there wasn’t.  There wasn’t because Steve had him pinned, ready to _break_ him if it would bring his baby girl back.

_It won’t._

He let Ward go, his fingers aching but not from the strain of holding so tightly.  He took a step back.  And another.  And another.  His chest was heaving, the miserable racing pulse of his heart slowing one shallow, strained beat at a time.  Thunder cracked.  The quinjet set down behind them with a burst of wind and a spray of pelting, horizontal rain.  “Take him,” Steve hoarsely ordered.  Thor nodded, snatching Ward by his ripped black shirt and none-too-gently dragging him away from the car.  The Asgardian wrenched his arms around his back and pushed him toward the jet, where Clint was waiting with a scowl and a zip-tie.

Steve shuddered.  The rain was warm, but it felt pleasantly cool where it washed his heated face and damaged back.  Tony pressed closer to him, hard lines and smooth plates but somehow familiar and comforting.  And Natasha took his hand.  “She’s not here,” Steve whispered.  All his fervent energy threatened to simply abandon him, and suddenly he felt every bruise and scrap from his tumble down the highway.  He closed his eyes against the burn of tears, not that it made any difference.  They slipped free and mixed with the rain showering his face.  _She’s not here._

“Come on,” Natasha said softly, grasping his arm and tugging him toward the jet.  Her eyes were hardening, and her voice was low with determination.  “Let’s find out what he knows.”

* * *

“Steve, this would be easier if you would just – stop it.  Stop.  Sit still.  You’re like a two year-old.  Sit still!”

Steve grunted as Natasha plucked another few pebbles of asphalt and dirt out of his back with tweezers.  It stung something fierce, but he hardly felt it.  His eyes were glued on the monitors in front of them that were showing the Avengers’ command center.  They didn’t exactly have interrogation rooms in the Tower, so this was the best they muster.  Everything was dark, the holographic displays and computer terminals, and Ward sat at the conference table.  His hands were bound behind him, not that there was anything he could do or anywhere he could go.  Not with Hawkeye glaring him down.  Not with Thor positioned at the door into the command center, his arms folded across his chest.  Not with Agent May and Agent Coulson standing in front of them, betrayal and anger cold in their eyes.  Steve watched Ward intently, but this guy was a professional.  He was in pain, but he wasn’t fazed at all about his situation.  Steve considered Clint and Natasha cool customers, rarely riled and expertly in command of their bodies and faces at all times.  Ward rivaled them.  Either he felt nothing – no fear or remorse or shame – or he’d buried it so deeply it was completely hidden and inaccessible.  Steve didn’t know which was more disturbing.  Or infuriating.

“You should really be in medical,” Natasha said.  “Some of these need stitches.”  She was tossing another blood-streaked bandage into the trash beside her.  “Tony, help with this.”

Tony was out of his armor and looking more haggard than Steve could ever recall seeing him.  He was incredibly pale, making the scruff lining his jaw around his usually meticulously groomed goatee appear even darker.  He tore his eyes from the monitors to press a bandage to Steve’s back.  Then he hissed on Steve’s behalf.  “You look like a Picasso.  And not in a good way.”

“I’m fine.”  Steve could practically feel the two of them share unhappy looks.  He didn’t need (or want) to be coddled right then.  And he could imagine how bad his back looked.  Getting his uniform off hadn’t been easy (or pleasant), and the number of tears and amount of blood in the fabric had been a sign enough of the severity of the road burn he had all down his posterior and side.  But he didn’t care.  Natasha had been working for almost thirty minutes on cleaning him up, painstakingly removing the grit and dirt and debris from the road before he healed up around it, and that should have been unpleasant enough to keep his attention, but it wasn’t.  All he could think about was Ward.  Staring at him.  Hating him.  Wanting to throttle him if it would get them some answers.  Wanting to understand.  _Wanting to find Sarah._

“He’s not giving in,” Tony said in frustration.

Natasha was wiping some sort of stinging liquid over the worst of Steve’s cuts.  “Unfortunately, he’s a mission specialist.  We don’t tend to.”

Tony grunted.  “Then you go have a crack at him.  I can finish patching up Captain Roadkill.”  Were it any other occasion, the attempt at a joke would have won him a withering glance and half a smile from the target of said joke.  As it was, Steve hardly heard it, still transfixed on Ward.  He grimaced as Natasha probed another gash, but all he could see was Coulson looming over Ward, May to Ward’s other side, and neither of them were getting anywhere despite almost an hour of questioning.  It was almost dawn.  Sarah and Pepper had been gone for nearly twelve hours.  _Twelve hours._   They needed answers _now._

“And how are you planning on doing that with one good arm?” Natasha asked softly.  Tony flushed.  She went back to her work, silent for a moment.  “Believe it or not, Clint’s sometimes better than I am at extracting information.”

“He knows where they are,” Steve said darkly.  He fidgeted again, shifting another inch forward on the bench on which he was sitting in a ready room outside the command center.  Natasha swatted him lightly on the shoulder, stern enough to remind him to cooperate.  She was in the process of bandaging another section of his lower back.  Steve stiffened, shaking his head.  Somehow the guilt he’d expected to feel for nearly beating it out of Ward wasn’t really coming.  “He has to.”

“Coulson’s got that Skye girl trying to track the path the SUV took, back through Virginia and up to Manhattan,” Tony said.  “She seems like a pretty good hacker.”  Both Steve and Natasha glanced to him in surprise.  He shrugged, which was pretty pathetic as lamed as his one arm was.  “What?  She’s not as good as me.”

“If he doesn’t have them, and there’s been no ransom demand or anything, then whoever took them must want _them_ ,” Steve said.  The anguish choked his voice more and more as he spoke.  It was subtle, but they noticed.  “Sarah doesn’t have the serum.  They can’t get anything from her.”

Natasha was quiet for a moment, her eyes darting between Steve’s mutilated back and the screen where Coulson was obviously loudly talking to Ward.  Clint had come closer, and he was looming over their captive, muscular arms folded across her chest.  “Maybe Sarah wasn’t the target.”  Steve turned around completely, but Natasha was watching Tony.  “You said they were interested in stabilizing Extremis.”

Tony’s face went starkly white, and his eyes widened.  Horror shone in them, awful, consuming horror, and he was rushing out of the room a breath later.  “Tony.  Tony!” Steve shouted.  He was on his feet and following before Natasha could stop him.  Tony was obviously sore and stiff because despite his head start and the wild crackle of energy in his eyes, he didn’t get very far before Steve got a hold of his good arm and stopped him.  “Tony, wait.  That doesn’t mean–”

“What doesn’t it mean?” Tony gasped.  He was terrified in a way that Steve had never seen before, and that amped up his own fear again.  It would be like that, a vicious circle with the two of them feeding back on each other, and that was why he needed to stop it now.  He knew exactly what Tony was seeing in his mind’s eye, exactly what he was imagining.  He knew what had happened to Pepper during the Mandarin incident, how it haunted Tony that he’d been helpless to stop Aldrich Killian from _experimenting_ on her and flooding her body with their poison.  “They’re after Extremis, not the serum.  They’re going to hurt her to get it!  They’re gonna–”

“They won’t,” Steve managed, even though he wasn’t sure.

“Oh, God, Steve,” Tony moaned.  His face crumpled in a show of grief and despair that sent spikes of ice back into Steve’s heart.  “I would have done it.  I swear, I would have given them the data.  I swear I would’ve…”

Steve wrapped Tony against him as the inventor barked an unwitting sob into his shoulder.  He didn’t have the strength to promise Tony it would be okay.  He didn’t because he didn’t know, and he was just as terrified.  If they took Sarah just because she was with Pepper, or as leverage to use against Pepper, then she was expendable to them.  The thought made him feel sick, dizzy, bile burning the back of his throat that he stubbornly swallowed and swallowed down.  If they didn’t want or need the super soldier serum, then he had _nothing_ to sell to them to get Sarah back.  That was too terrible a thing to even contemplate, let alone accept, and the feeling of Tony coming apart beside him was enough to ground him in something else.  “What would it take to get the stabilized version of Extremis from Pepper?”

Tony sniffed.  “Blood samples.”

“Then they won’t hurt her.”  It was flawed reasoning – these guys were _monsters_ – but Steve made himself go forward with it because it was all they had.

They were both still a moment, each so afraid and sore and exhausted.  Natasha was behind them, watching with worried eyes.  And then a soft voice interrupted the tense quiet.  “Excuse me.  I, um…”  Steve let go of Tony, turning to the door.  Skye stood there, seeming more mortified than anything else.  She winced when she saw the aggravated, bloody, bruised mess of Steve’s skin.  “Ow.  Geez.  Are you okay?”

Steve turned back, reaching for the shirt Natasha was holding out to him without him asking her to.  He shrugged into it.  “What can we do for you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.  He caught Tony’s wet eyes as his friend not so inconspicuously wiped them on his sleeve.  Tony stepped past both Natasha and Steve and walked briskly out of the room to go compose himself in private.

Skye’s eyes tracked Tony out into the hallway before she managed enough bravery to come deeper into the room.  “Captain, I just…  Maybe you’ll listen.”  She sighed in frustration.  “I _know_ I can get Ward to talk.  Nobody will let me try.  May said it’s too dangerous; she thinks I can’t handle myself, but I know more than she thinks.  If you give me a chance, I can get through to him.  And if you help me, well…”

Natasha stared at her coolly, staying close to Steve almost protectively.  Like she thought Skye was trying to raise his hopes prematurely (intentionally or not) and she wanted to prevent that from happening.  “There are three SHIELD specialists in there with him,” she reminded.

Skye shook her head.  “They don’t _know_ him.”

“And you do.”

The girl sighed.  “Yeah, I think I do.  At least enough.  And…”  Now she hesitated, blushing a little.  “I think he likes me.”  She blushed more.  “Has a thing for me.”

Steve shared a surprised look with Natasha.  Hers was more irritated.  “You might have mentioned this before,” she said.

Skye was troubled.  Her eyes dropped from them in a mixture of shame, anger, and embarrassment.  “I was kinda hoping I wouldn’t need to.”

This complicated things.  Potentially, at any rate.  Steve looked at Natasha again, and he knew instantly what she was thinking.  How she was planning.  If Ward had feelings for Skye, then Skye was completely correct: _this_ could be the way to get through to him.  Despite how desperately Steve wanted to do that, though, he didn’t want to manipulate whatever there was between Skye and Ward if it would damage Skye.  That wasn’t fair to her.

Natasha came to the same conclusion.  “And you think you can do this?”  It was a loaded question, probing both at Skye’s capacity to use Ward’s attraction to her against him and the existence of any similar feelings in return.

But the girl nodded.  She heaved a slow breath.  “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

Frankly, that was all the affirmation Steve needed.  He nodded.  She did, too.  “Let’s go then.”

Their small group headed out of the anteroom to the command center.  As they were walking down the hallway, they ran into Clint and Thor coming out.  Clint was seething; his jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid under his combat uniform, his eyes dark with frustration.  “Nothing,” he announced tightly.

Thor was hardly better than Clint, though his concern was more evident.  “This man stubbornly refuses to cooperate.  Were this Asgard, his would be subjected to various unpleasant approaches to induce compliance.”

“Yeah, well, we use ‘unpleasant approaches’ here too, pal,” Clint grumbled.  “And I’m getting damn close to wanting to try ’em.”

“Has he said anything?” Skye asked, her bracelets jingling as she folded her arms across her chest.

Clint looked a little miffed at her presence.  He’d been willing enough to work with May, but dealing with anyone else on Coulson’s new team seemed to rub him the wrong way.  “Not a word.  Silent as the grave.”

Steve forced himself to be patient.  It was the only way to save Sarah now, and he knew it.  He wasn’t about to use those “unpleasant approaches”, no matter how horrible the situation got.  Skye was right; they needed to come at this from a different angle.  “She’s going to talk to him,” Steve said quietly, tipping his head toward the girl.  “I’m going to help her.”

Clint glanced between them.  “Honestly, Cap, I don’t think he has a humanity to appeal to.”

“Gotta try,” Steve said.

Their group turned and went back to the command center.  As they walked, Thor grasped Steve’s arm firmly.  “My friend,” he began in a low tone, his grip tight on Steve’s wrist to hold him back.  “There is… a possibility.  I was hesitant to mention it because I cannot ensure its happening, but I believe I might be able to convince Heimdall to help us.”

Natasha was close enough to hear them.  “Heimdall?”

Steve knew who that was; Thor had mentioned him affectionately and respectfully numerous times in the past.  Thor obviously held the other Asgardian in high esteem.  He was reportedly one of the strongest and oldest creatures in the universe.  “He is the guardian of the Bifrost,” the prince explained.  “He can see and hear all within the Nine Realms.”  Steve hadn’t been aware of that aspect, and it became instantly clear what Thor intended.  His blue eyes were mired in concern and doubt as he beheld his captain and friend.  “I cannot guarantee he will help us.  It is not his way to embroil himself in the affairs of others.  He uses his talents to protect Asgard and maintain balance in the Realms.  That is all.  Still… he is rather fond of me.  Surely he knows what Sarah means to me, to all of us.  Perhaps I can sway him to look for her.”

Steve could hardly believe his relief.  Thor didn’t appear entirely confident in his offer, but it was still something, another chance should their efforts to pressure Ward lead to no avail.  “You think he could…”

“I know not,” Thor reminded.  “But I will do everything in my power to try.  Of that I promise.”  Steve nodded.  “I will go now, if I have your permission.”

Steve swallowed through a tight throat.  “You don’t need my permission.  You never have, especially not when it concerns Sarah.”

Thor smiled faintly, genuinely touched, and for a moment Steve thought he saw the sparkle of tears in his eyes.  They were gone immediately, of course, but Steve knew how much Thor feared for Sarah.  How much he loved her.  He clasped Steve’s shoulder before drawing him closer into a warm embrace.  “Have heart.  Stay strong.”  Thor’s voice was murmur of encouragement, and he squeezed Steve carefully in a brotherly show of support.  “I will be back as soon as I can be.”

Steve nodded again, and with that, Thor turned and walked briskly down the corridor, his cape a flutter of red behind him.  Steve watched him go, trying not to hope too deeply.  After, he turned back to the others.  Skye was watching him with a pained look on her face.  He could see she was nervous.  Clint stood beside her, eyes hard with a need to get back in there and go at Ward again.  And Natasha was watching him, too.  Her gaze was tender, worried, but not so much that she was afraid for him.  “You sure you want to do this?”

He drew a deep breath.  The command center was just ahead.  In it was the only connection he had to Sarah.  “Yeah,” he said, “I’m sure.”  _I have to._

* * *

Grant Ward seemed like a nice guy.  Handsome face.  Friendly smile.  He and Steve were about the same age (biologically, anyway), and in another life, Steve could picture him as a friend.  He appeared an ideal SHIELD agent, calm, cool, and utterly capable.  Everybody’s friend.  _Everybody’s type_.  Steve supposed that was what made him so dangerous.  He’d learned a lot since becoming an Avenger, since leading Clint and Natasha in battle and since becoming their friend.  Appearances could be deceiving.  However, while Clint and Natasha’s hardened, cold exteriors hid warmth, friendship, and loyalty, he had a feeling Ward’s emotionless gaze was masking something much darker.  Obviously he’d pulled the wool over the eyes of everyone on Coulson’s team.  Phil Coulson wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot, and Steve had the feeling Melinda May was among the best operatives SHIELD had to offer.  If he’d fooled them, he was proficient at lying.

They’d need to be careful.

Ward still sat at the conference table, bound and hunched over.  When Steve walked into the command center, he didn’t react at all.  When Skye came in after him, however, he sat up slightly.  Even though it pained him, he straightened, and a flash of _something_ went across his eyes.  That was the only tell Steve needed.  Skye was right; Ward had some sort of feelings for her.  Steve didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried.  He settled on a whole bunch of both.

But he’d been around Natasha and Clint enough to keep that from his face.  He schooled his features into an impassive frown.  “Agent Coulson,” he said in greeting.  “Agent May.”  The two SHIELD agents turned.  At spotting Skye, Coulson looked displeased.  Steve didn’t let that dissuade him.  Never mind that he knew essentially nothing about this team and its dynamic.  It was more than obvious Coulson was a tad protective of Skye, and that small glance of concern and disproval was again the only thing Steve needed to be certain Coulson knew something about Ward’s feelings for Skye and vice versa.  Either way, that only furthered his suspicions that he needed to tread carefully here.  “Can you give us a minute with Agent Ward?”

Coulson was hesitant, of course.  Maybe it was a tad arrogant of him, using Coulson’s admiration for him against the older man like this, but Steve did it.  Ward had been in here for an hour with Coulson and May to no avail.  Surely Coulson realized this.  And surely Coulson trusted him.  The senior agent glanced between his childhood idol and his prisoner for a moment, contemplating and considering, before giving a short sigh and nodding.  “Go ahead, Captain.  He’s all yours.  Maybe he needs a reminder of who he’s hurt.  What’s at stake.”

May offered Ward a final glower before following Coulson out of the command center.  The doors swished shut behind them and sealed.  Ward leaned back in his chair, appraising Captain America with a hard stare.  Steve stared back, resisting the urge to reach across the table, haul the other man out of that chair, and…  _No._   He hated bullies.  Hated evil.  And he wouldn’t become a bully, _do evil_ , no matter what.  There was a way to get this guy to talk.  And if not, he’d just keep searching for Sarah and Pepper until he found them.  He’d search forever if he had to.  “You want more pain medicine?  Doctor Banner’s got another dose.”

Bruce had checked Ward over when they’d brought him in.  Steve had ended up far worse for the wear from their little altercation in the car, which made sense considering the guy had basically launched a _rocket_ at him, but Steve had the serum and his injuries would be healed in no time.  Ward had a bunch of damaged ribs and some nasty bruises (whether those had come from the crash or from Tony after the crash, Steve didn’t know and he wasn’t about to ask).  He had a nasty gash along his forehead.  His lip was also split, but it had stopped bleeding a while ago.  It still looked sore and inflamed when he offered a withered grin.  “This supposed to be where you come and threaten me?  Beat it out of me?” he asked.  “You’re Captain America.  I don’t know you all that well, but I have to say it doesn’t sound like your style.”

Being baited hadn’t factored into his plan (not that he really _had_ a plan).  The taunts hurt, tugging and pulling and shredding at his already frayed control.  He didn’t know what was worse: standing there and _not_ doing what Ward was proposing and being seen as weak, or doing it and maybe ( _maybe_ ) getting information about Sarah and probably hating himself the rest of his life.

Thankfully, Skye seemed willing to take over.  “Ward, you need to tell us where you took Captain Rogers’ daughter and Ms. Potts.”

Ward’s steely eyes flicked over to Skye, and, again, that cold countenance faltered just slightly.  The room was quiet for a long moment, and Steve found it difficult to stay still.  He did, though.  He _was_ Captain America, and he’d faced down evil worse than this (objectively, anyway) before without breaking a sweat.  “I can’t,” Ward finally responded.

“Why not?” Skye asked.  For supposedly not being an official SHIELD agent (at least, that was what Coulson had said), she had a heck of a poker face.  She was concerned, interested, but not so much as to seem not in control of the situation.  She’d claimed Ward had trained her (or was in the process of training her), so maybe this finesse was some of that.  Whatever the reason, she appeared to be exactly what she said: prepared to do anything to help.

Ward sighed.  “I just can’t.”

“You don’t understand–”

“No,” he returned.  “ _You_ don’t understand.  This isn’t about the girl for me.  It’s not about Potts.  I was asked to do a job, and I did it, because that’s what I do.  I complete my assignments.”  Steve didn’t know if this guy’s life had really been reduced to that, to being a soldier without any conscience or opinions of his own, or if this was some sort of act to shift the blame to someone else.  “That’s what any specialist does.  I taught you that.  You answer to me.”  Now he was talking specifically to Skye.  “And I answer to my SO.”

“You mean Garrett,” Steve supplied.

Ward’s eyes grew icy again as they shifted to him.  “You’re a military man.  You’re familiar with the chain of command.”

“If my commanding officer had ever ordered me to kidnap innocent people, I would have walked away and never looked back,” Steve countered, stepping closer.  And that was the God’s honest truth.  He might have been turned into Captain America as part of the army’s war effort against the Germans during World War II, but he had _never_ allowed himself to be turned into some mindless weapon.  Even with SHIELD he’d never permitted himself or the Avengers to be manipulated into hurting innocent people or into serving aims outside of protecting world peace and security.  “Just following orders” never had been and never would be a viable excuse to him.  “Who’s Garrett to you?”

Ward simply responded, “My SO.”

“We’re on Coulson’s team.  Coulson is your SO,” Skye corrected.  Ward said nothing to that.  She stared at him evenly, never once looking away as she pulled out one of the chairs from the conference table so she could sit across from him.  She folded her hands together on the table, leaning forward like she was trying to reach out to him.  “Ward, I know you.  I know you wouldn’t have done something like this unless you had no other choice.”

Ward’s eyes flashed.  Steve stepped closer to the Skye, not liking the look on the man’s face at all.  The other Avengers were right outside, and Ward probably knew that, so it would be crazy for him to try anything.  Then again, it was pretty crazy to kidnap Captain America’s daughter and Iron Man’s wife and then practically make himself a target for capture.  “You think you know me?”  He shook his head, and there was a glimmer of something there.  Something raw and angry and hurt.  Steve had seen that before, too.  “You don’t know me.  Don’t presume to think you know what I would and would not do.”

“The Grant Ward who stood up to his older brother to protect his younger brother?” Skye said.  “The Grant Ward who jumped out of a plane to save Simmons?  The Grant Ward who watches our backs on every mission we’re on?  That Grant Ward wouldn’t have kidnapped a three year-old girl.  Taken her away from her home.  From her father.”

“They’re not interested in hurting her,” Ward responded, like that made it better.

Steve struggled to keep himself calm.  “Who?  What does Amanda Thayer have to do with this?  Who is she?”  Ward said nothing again.  It was almost as if he was struggling to balance justifying and rationalizing what he’d done and revealing more.  Steve came ever closer, planting his hands on the table and leaning forward, bracing his weight on them.  His biceps flexed under the thin material of his shirt.  He knew what that looked like.  He was Captain America, and he could wipe the floor with this guy, literally and figuratively.  So what if it was an empty threat?  Ward didn’t know that.  “You took Sarah from me.  You looked into my eyes, _lied to my face_ , and kidnapped my daughter.  If you think I am going to let you walk away from this, it’s not happening.”  Now Ward did look a little worried.  “I don’t know if they left you to be the fall guy, but whatever the reason, they hung you out to dry.  So help me find her.  If you do, there might be some leniency.”

“Leniency from you?”  Ward actually laughed.  “Leniency from Fury?  You have _no idea_ what you’re dealing with here, do you?  What’s building in the shadows?”  A chill tickled the small of Steve’s back.  “This is just the start.  It’s coming, and you’re never going to be safe.”

“What’s coming?” Steve demanded.  Ward didn’t answer.  “What’s coming?”

“You’d do anything to save her, wouldn’t you, Captain?”

Steve narrowed his eyes.  “You better believe it.”

“Well, I’d do anything for John.  _Anything._   So if he tells me to take them, I do it.  If he tells me to drive, I drive.  And if he tells me to lie to you, stonewall, I will.  If he tells me the world is changing, then I hunker down and do I what I need to to protect him.  That’s what family is.  It’s not blood.  It’s not genes.  It’s being willing to go to the end of the line for someone else, to cross _over_ the line for someone else.  I’d do that for John.”

“Why?” Skye asked.  “What could he have possibly done to get this kind of loyalty from you?”

Ward’s face softened again.  “He saved me.”

“Yeah, from jail.  He brought you to SHIELD.  So what?” Skye returned in exasperation.

“No, he _saved_ me.  Saved me from myself.  From all the horrible stuff in my past.  He taught me how to _survive_ , how to fight, how to live on nothing and be stronger for it.  I owe him everything.”

“You owe him your soul, huh?” Skye said sharply.  “Because _that’s_ what you’ve lost.”  Ward stared at her, hesitant.  The only source of conflict within this man seemed to concern Skye, what _she_ thought of him.  “Sarah’s three, Ward.  Three years old.  All she knows in this whole world is her family.”  Steve stiffened.  Ward opened his mouth, but Skye interrupted him before he could even speak.  “Don’t tell me you don’t care.  I saw you when you found her.  Maybe Garrett and Blake and whoever else planned this from the start, but you’re not that good of an actor.  You weren’t in on it then.  You _wanted_ Coulson to take her to Captain Rogers.  You _care_ about her.”  Skye’s voice lowered, softened, and compassion filled her eyes.  Steve didn’t think it was all a ploy.  “You had a terrible childhood.  I understand that.  And I understand you might feel like you owe Garrett for what he’s done for you.  But this, taking Sarah away from Captain Rogers, taking Ms. Potts from Mr. Stark…  You want to ruin their lives?”  She shook her head.  “You want to ruin Sarah’s childhood?  Put her through the same misery and anguish that you went through?  Or that I did?”

Ward looked up at that.  He’d averted his eyes at the beginning of her talk, almost in shame.  Now they were brighter.  Skye sighed, holding his gaze and refusing to let it go.  “You know what that did to me.  Losing your parents, your family…  It scars you.  You know it.”  Ward’s taut expression loosened even further.  Steve allowed himself some belief that this was working.  “Help us find them, please.  Tell us where they are.  Do the right thing.”

The following moment was silent, stretched infinitely long by anxiety and the faintest hints of hope.  Eventually Ward seemed to completely deflate, like he was sinking into the realization that Skye was right, that he had the power to prevent this from getting any worse.  “Check outside Baltimore.  Off route 165 near Baldwin.”

That was all Steve needed.  He turned and left the room.  May came back in as he went out, probably to keep an eye on Ward alone with Skye.  Outside Coulson was already researching the location to see if it corresponded to Ward’s supposed route south from New York to where they had found him in Virginia.  “Looks like he could have stopped there,” he surmised.

“Cap,” Clint said, “I don’t like this.  With all due respect to that girl’s interrogation techniques, I highly doubt he would give this up so easily.”  He shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.  “This whole thing seems like a plant.”

Natasha’s jaw was set, her eyes narrowed dangerously.  “It’s suspect,” she agreed.  “And what was that about things building in the shadows?  Something more’s going on here.  Whatever they’re planning, they’re trying to lead us into a trap.”

“A trap to do what?  Catch me?” Steve asked tightly.  His patience was wearing again.  He knew everything they were telling him, but having it thrown in front of his eyes was only aggravating him.  “If they want me, all they have to do is tell me when and where we can make an exchange.”

“Captain, we’ve been over this.  That’s not a viable option,” Coulson reminded, but he practically withered under the strength of Steve’s glare.  “We all want to find Sarah and Ms. Potts, but we can’t help them complete Centipede.  That’s what they want, why they took your loved ones.”

Steve brushed all that aside.  “If it’s a trap, then it’s a trap.  Frankly, I don’t see another option.  This is all we have.”  He turned to Natasha and Clint.  “Ready?”

They both nodded.  “You want to get Stark?”

 _No._   Not when Tony was hurting this badly.  But they were all a little unhinged, panicked, and lost.  It wasn’t fair to cut him out of the loop.  Besides, even though it didn’t seem like these goons had the capacity to take on the Avengers, that didn’t mean they didn’t pose a threat.  With Thor gone and Bruce in the lab, they needed all the help they could get.  “JARVIS–”

“Already done, Captain,” the AI responded.  “Mr. Stark has been informed of the new mission.  And the quinjet is already in its pre-flight sequence.”

The three Avengers turned, heading down the hallway.  The irony (and irritation) that they were essentially flying right back to where they had been wasn’t lost on any of them.  “If we’re going on a wild goose chase, it might be easier to have a mobile command base,” Clint grumbled.  “If we end up needing the Hulk–”

“I might be able to help with that,” Coulson declared, turning and face the team.  “You guys go.  I’ll get us set up.”

* * *

Ward gave Skye an actual address, and with that it took the Avengers only a matter of minutes to fly back down to Baltimore.  It was almost dawn, and the rain was letting up.  The humidity combined with the newly rising sun created a low-laying mist that hugged the wet ground.  Clint set the quinjet down in a field outside what looked like a lab of some sort.  Skye had checked this facility against SHIELD’s list of known AIM and Quinn International labs that were involved in the Centipede project; it hadn’t been on there.  For some reason, that gave Steve another bit of irrational hope.  Like this was a truly secret, hidden place, the kind where the bad guys might stash their most valuable assets.  Maybe that was silly, but he couldn’t stop himself.

The Avengers fanned out, approaching from the south with practiced precision.  Natasha and Clint were running point, infiltrating first and leading them inside.  Tony and Steve held the rear, both because they were already banged up and because neither of them was really in his right mind.  Steve had redressed in a new uniform, his shield already on his arm.  Tony was silent beside him, Iron Man’s face locked in its perpetual scowl (though it seemed more meaningful than it normally did right now).  Both had been grim and silent since leaving New York, not wanting to hope.  Having that stomped out or taken away seemed a worse torture than anything else that could be levied upon them.

No, it wasn’t.  There were a million worse possibilities, each more devastating than the last, and it took all of Steve’s strength not to think about them.  “Everything seems quiet,” Clint remarked over the comm link.  “No guards.  Interior security desk is empty.”

That wasn’t what Steve wanted to hear.  He saw Clint and Natasha sweeping the shadowy grounds closer to the lab.  “I don’t like this,” Natasha declared.  She was right; there was nothing inviting about this situation.  It was one step away from having a giant neon sign buzzing above the building flashing “HERE”.  Steve gritted his teeth and looked back across the foggy field toward the quinjet.  It wasn’t too late to bail out of this, he supposed.  But they couldn’t.  The smallest chance that this could lead them to Pepper and Sarah was worth the risk.  “Want us to proceed, Cap?”

Steve shared a look with Tony.  Tony only gave a small nod.  “Do it.”

The two master assassins were inside the lobby a second later.  Steve saw them perform a standard securing operation, systematically checking the area for threats.  “Tony?” Steve asked, knowing Iron Man could maybe detect things they couldn’t.

“All clear on the infrared,” Tony responded.  “At least what I can see.”

Steve left the cover he’d taken behind a row of hedges to run inside the lobby.  Natasha and Clint joined him, warily glancing around the seemingly abandoned area.  “Yeah, maybe this is cliché, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Clint muttered, his eyes sharp in their scan and an arrow already nocked and ready on his bow.  Natasha waited for Steve, a gun in each hand.  But Steve hesitated until Tony lost his patience and thundered forward.  The rest of the group followed.

The place was large, corridors and offices and conference rooms, all sleek and modern and with state of the art technology and equipment.  Aside from cursory glances, the Avengers ignored the other rooms.  They investigated deeper, and with each step they took into the darkened, empty building, Steve felt his patience eroding.  He couldn’t deal with any games right now.  He couldn’t take any more lies.  No more twists.  No nothing.  He just wanted Sarah back.  Maybe Ward hadn’t been lying.  Maybe she was here somewhere, in one of these blackened, empty rooms, in the lab ahead…  Maybe…

She wasn’t.

“Good,” Garrett said as they stepped through double doors that led into a spacious research area.  The SHIELD agent stood there, dressed exactly as Steve had seen him last in black SHIELD gear.  He was flanked by a slew of soldiers.  Each of them had an apparatus on his or her arm, an insect-like contraption that seemed fused into the flesh.  It glowed orange, delivering their deadly serum directly into the wearer’s bloodstream.  _Centipede._   “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t get my message.”

Steve gritted his teeth.  “Where are they, Garrett?”

“Not here,” the man replied with a smirk.

It was only Steve’s arm across Tony’s chest that kept him back.  And it was only a tiny shred of control that kept Steve himself from launching across the lab to tackle the bastard and wring the truth out of him.  “Tell us where they are!”

Garrett smiled.  Steve wanted to wipe it off his face.  “I’ll make you a deal, Captain.  If you can defeat _my_ weapon, I’ll tell you where your daughter is.  We need a test run, and who better to try him out against than the Avengers?”

Steve didn’t understand.  “Weapon?  What weapon?”

From the group of Centipede soldiers, a dark-skinned man emerged.  He was remarkable, horrifying, and amazing all at once.  Half man.  Half machine.  His dark skin was scarred, completely gone in some places to reveal shining silver plating and mechanical parts.  He was highly muscular, highly enhanced, a powerhouse of modern technology coupled with a tortured form of a man.  One eye glowed red.  “Holy…” Tony whispered from Steve’s side.

“Really something, isn’t he?” Garrett said appreciatively.  He was practically beaming with pride and excitement.  “Quinn International’s been working on the cybernetic enhancements for years.  He’s stronger than you, Rogers, and faster than you.  More durable than Iron Man.  And with Centipede flowing through his veins, he can heal whatever damage you might manage to do to him faster than you can.  We call him Deathlok.”  Deathlok’s face was completely impassive, blank, like a machine not yet programmed.  Steve didn’t know whether to feel terrified or incredibly saddened.  Had this man been another victim in this twisted plot?  “So what do you think, Captain?” Garrett asked with another ugly grin.

“I think you’re insane,” Steve replied lowly.

Garrett laughed.  Around them, the Centipede soldiers were closing in, encircling the Avengers with feral looks in their eyes.  Deathlok neared, his entirely mechanical leg thudding against the floor with each heavy step.  “You think so?  I think we’re going to find out.”  To his monster, he said, “Do your thing.  Let’s show Earth’s mightiest heroes who they’re messing with.”

Steve tightened his grip on the straps of his shield as Deathlok charged.


	7. Chapter 7

“Today just keeps getting better and better,” Tony muttered.  Steve didn’t have a chance to reply to that because Deathlok was on him and on him in force.  He got his shield up in time to block a heavy blow, digging his boots into the floor for leverage to push back.  All around them the Centipede-enhanced soldiers charged.  He heard the twang of Clint’s bow and the distinctive sound of Natasha’s guns.  Beside him Tony fired his repulsors, and the blast hit Deathlok firmly in the chest.  It didn’t slow him down much, though, and he whipped his arm around to smash Iron Man with surprising and devastating strength that sent him careening through the air and slamming into a lab bench.

Steve ducked beneath the blow, rolling to the left.  He rammed his knee into Deathlok’s chest and was met with hard, unforgiving metal rather than flesh.  _Not good._   The cyborg glared emotionlessly at him, but somehow that expression was more malevolent, more _arrogant_ , as it became obvious what they were up against.  Or maybe it seemed so much more conceited simply because of Garrett, who was grinning and chortling in the background.  “Understand now, Captain?” he called over the din.  Steve ducked another weighty blow, scrambling away as Deathlok rounded on him.  _Really not good._ “You’re outdated.  You and Stark both.  A super soldier that’s both a man _and_ a machine?  Now _that’s_ the future!”

“Do you ever shut up?” Clint snarled.  He loosed an arrow at one of the Centipede soldiers.  It sunk deep into his shoulder and exploded, sending razor-sharp darts spreading outward in a sphere.  Others yowled and fell.  The archer whirled, nocking another arrow and launching it rapidly at Garrett.  Deathlok moved in a blur, catching the shot midair and throwing it back at him.  Clint barely dropped to the floor in time.  “We’ve got problems!”

“Yes, you do, Barton!” Garrett said with a laugh.  He turned to Deathlok.  “Go on.  Put the Avengers out of their misery.”  Deathlok’s red eye narrowed, and he charged.  Steve dodged another heavy blow from his opponent, scrambling back when the super-powered fist raced toward him.  It broke straight through the table behind him, reducing it and everything on it to rubble.  Steve danced to the side, whirling and delivering a mighty kick to Deathlok’s back.  Again his foot met material that was seemingly unbreakable, and sharp pain shot up his calf to his knee.  This time he did damage, though.  The cyborg grunted as his plating dented.  He stumbled forward.  That only served to make him angrier, though.  He snatched Steve around the throat, squeezed until his captive was choking, and bodily flung him across the room.

Steve hit the wall hard and slumped.  He heard the distinctive sound of Iron Man’s weapons discharging, saw the sizzle of blue light and a blur of red and gold landing in front of him.  “Get back!” Tony warned, unloading his arsenal on Deathlok as he stalked closer.  Steve blinked the blur of tears from his eyes and pushed himself up.  This guy packed a heck of a punch.  “I said: get away!” Tony barked.  “What is this, _Terminator?_   Schwarzenegger did it better, bro.”  Steve didn’t know what any of that was really, not that now was a good time to find out.  He staggered to his feet next to Tony, and together the two of them fought Deathlok.

More accurately, _stood their ground_ against Deathlok.  They were fighting, but they certainly weren’t landing blows that did any substantive damage.  This amalgamation of man and machine was every bit as fast and tough as Garrett had claimed, and he was, simply put, wiping the floor with the both of them.  Tony gasped as he was struck hard enough to be flipped head over heels.  The minute he hit on his back, another Centipede-enhanced soldier came right at him.  One of Clint’s arrows was sticking out of the guy’s leg, but it wasn’t slowing him down, and he grabbed Iron Man by the throat and threw him again.  Tony got his thrusters under control before he hit the other side of the lab, returning a salvo of repulsor blasts that dropped the man.

Steve slid to his knees to avoid another quick, vicious blow.  He retaliated with a bunch of strikes of his own, trying to aim for Deathlok’s fleshier-seeming areas.  His fist struck, and the cyborg _flinched_.  It was the first sign of any other emotion or reaction besides cold determination to destroy them.  Obviously his human parts were vulnerable, though how vulnerable Steve couldn’t tell.  And it was even more difficult trying to figure out _what_ areas of him were human, rather than skin over cybernetic joints and bones.  “Iron Man!” Steve yelled over the comm link.  He barely avoided a crushing blow to the head, catching on his shield with a loud hum.  He glanced over his shoulder and saw a blur of violent battle behind him.  Tony was embroiled in the middle of it, numerous Centipede-enhanced soldiers trying to corner him.  “Tony, does he have any weaknesses?”  Surely JARVIS had been scanning him.  It was more than likely if there were any, the AI had detected them.  _Please tell me he has some weak spots!_

“J?” Tony gasped.

“Scanning, sir.”

Tony reached to one man’s back, snatching something under his shirt.  The Centipede apparatus.  He yanked it away, and the man screamed and fell.  The insect-like structure dripped orange liquid to the floor before Tony tossed it aside.  “Lovely.”

“Getting hammered here!” Natasha cried.  Steve tried to get a glance at her, but he couldn’t.  Not with Deathlok hounding and pounding him.

Over the comm line, JARVIS relayed his report.  “The creature’s skeleton appears to be reinforced with some sort of titanium alloy.  In addition, his cybernetic upgrades are capable of striking with bone-crushing strength.  He will cause significant damage if he hits you.  As of yet, I have not detected any weaknesses in either his plating or the organic sections of his body.  I will continue to analyze him.”

Garrett laughed from where he was watching, safely tucked away from the melee but not so far as to not have a prime view of it.  It was almost like he’d heard JARVIS.  “Uh-uh, Cap!” he sing-songed.  “You’re wasting your time trying to find what’s not there!  But then you seem to enjoy chasing your own tail, don’t you.”

“Somebody stuff a cork in that guy,” Clint breathlessly snapped.  Steve caught a glance of him further back and closer to the door, heavily engaged with two – _no, three_ – Centipede soldiers.  It was a sign of either extreme skill or unfathomable good fortune that the archer was doing as well as he was, his feet light and his moves quick as he countered and blocked and dodged and fought back.  And he could finally (thankfully) see that Natasha was a few meters away, having been separated from the rest of them, and battling behind an overturned lab bench.  Even in the second he could spare to look, he noticed that she was struggling.  An even greater number of soldiers was surrounding her, trying to take her down.  She was a blur of black and fiery red; though these thugs were stronger, they weren’t faster, and she was using every bit of her speed and agility to her advantage.

Steve knew better than to worry about her.  Mostly.  “Tony!  Help Nat!”

“And leave you?”  Iron Man was back at his side, trying to catch a few of the deadly strikes Deathlok was unleashing upon him.  “If you haven’t noticed, this jerk seems rather intent on beating the crap out of you!”  His voice was tense with worry.  He wasn’t even bothering to hide it.

Steve scrambled as Deathlok tried to ram him, trying to jump up and onto a desk.  He didn’t entirely get away in time, and the cyborg dug his metallic fingers into his calf.  He cried out from the force of it, feeling like muscle and skin was being ripped away.  Deathlok yanked the desk out from under him and threw it at Iron Man.  Steve couldn’t see if Tony was okay, but the crash of the furniture breaking against him and the floor was loud and awful.  He had no time to do anything to help.  Deathlok snatched his ankle and squeezed hard, hard enough to send bolts of agony up his leg.  Then he whipped Steve around like he was nothing.  The nauseating sensation of flying rushed over him for a split second before he was smashed into another desk.  The air rushed out of his lungs when he hit hard on his lower back, the surface of the desk shattering under his weight and the force of Deathlok throwing him into it.  His shield went flying.  Disorientated and pained, he groaned, twisting around and trying to get back up before he was attacked again. 

He didn’t make it.  Deathlok was looming over him, glaring with cold, cruel violence in his red eyes.  Steve gritted his teeth, kicking out his right foot and trying to push him back.  Deathlok caught his boot and twisted hard enough to wrest a cry from his lips.  He dragged him out of the wreckage.  Before he could do anything further, though, Tony appeared and wrapped his arms around the cyborg’s neck, choking and pulling him back.  Steve drove his free foot into the hand around his ankle again and again.  Deathlok finally let go, and Steve was able to roll to his feet.  His ankle didn’t want to bear his weight, throbbing sharply, but he forced it to as he quickly limped away.  He looked down quickly and saw his boot was actually _compressed,_ the leather and padding squeezed tightly around him with finger-shaped indents seeming permanently pressed into it.  And his calf was torn and bleeding.

Natasha cried out, and he lifted his head in time to see her being tossed across the room.  The urge to go to her was nearly overwhelming, but he didn’t.  And he didn’t have a choice, because Deathlok had shoved Iron Man away and was on him _again._   “Tony, help Nat!  That’s an order!”

Tony knew that tone of voice enough to follow his commands without further argument.  Iron Man streaked across the room, bullets clattering against his plating as a few of the soldiers wasted time and effort shooting at him.  Steve watched in relieved satisfaction as his friend tackled the thugs, providing Natasha protection so she could get back on her feet.  Suddenly Deathlok dropped in front of his eyes, cutting off his view of the rest of the team.  Steve crouched, sweeping Deathlok’s feet out from under him before darting away.  He ran and tried to regroup, dodging blows, scrambling for his shield.  He couldn’t find it.  _Where is it?_   The mess was getting larger by the second as Deathlok and the Centipede soldiers destroyed the lab.  _Where is it?_ He couldn’t fight effectively without it, not with this thing throwing crushing power at him with every attack.  He looked frantically, panicked.  The cyborg smashed everything in its path as he gave chase, and Steve felt cold terror clench him as he searched in vain.  _Where where where–_

“Cap!”  He raised his head just in time to see Natasha flip forward into a handstand and pluck his shield out of debris near her.  As she rotated forward, she threw it at him.  He grabbed it out of the air and whirled just in time to catch Deathlok’s next attack.  It nearly knocked him down, but he pushed back and pushed hard.  He desperately tried to hold his own.

Tried.  Deathlok was persistent and doggedly determined to destroy him.  He avoided another kick just barely, throwing himself back.  For a few infinite seconds, he simply concentrated on the fight in front of him, twirling and feinting and struggling to land some strikes that would do damage.  Not much did.  He hit harder, threw every bit of strength and power he had into it.  These were blows that would have killed a normal man numerous times over, but they hardly knocked Deathlok off balance.  This thing was equal parts tank and killing machine, deadly accurate and nigh unstoppable.  Frustrated and increasingly frightened, he started to wonder if Garrett really had somehow developed a weapon capable of destroying the Avengers.

Deathlok got a punch past his shield, landing a nasty one into his abdomen that drove the air right out of his chest.  That left him reeling for just a second, but a second was all Deathlok needed.  He snatched him by the throat, batting away his shield arm before he could even begin to protect himself.  The cyborg shoved him into a lab bench, almost bending him backward, and Steve choked.  The fingers pressing into his neck were holding back from crushing his windpipe, and he could feel the strength pulsing under that restraint.  Deathlok had him completely at his mercy.  He thought he heard the others yelling his name, but it was distant under the pounding of his own heart and his irrational fear that if he died, _no one would save Sarah._

He felt more than saw Garrett swaggering in to inspect his monster’s handiwork.  “I guess you lose, Cap,” he announced smugly.  He stepped into Steve’s line of vision.  Steve’s fear gave way to rage at the pleased smile plastered on the other man’s face.  “Guess I won’t be telling you where we took your little girl after all.”

Steve’s rage surged, sending power sizzling across his muscles like a livewire was jolting him.  He roared a furious cry, somehow getting his knee up in between him and Deathlok.  He shoved, punching with his left hand hard enough to send the cyborg’s face snapping back.  He struggled, _driven_ , wrenching himself free and pushing his captor back with strength and alacrity he’d probably find surprising if he was half in his right mind.  And the second he was loose of Deathlok’s grip, he charged Garrett, slamming the SHIELD agent back across the lab.  The man positively blanched; obviously he’d considered Steve beat, and though defeating Deathlok was no more attainable now than it had been a moment before, Steve felt more than a little pleased at the man’s fear.  “You’re going to tell me where she is!” he shouted, pushing Garrett into a row of file cabinets.  Garrett’s expression shattered in discomfort as he was rammed into them.  “Tell me where she is!  Tell me now!”

“No,” Garrett blithely replied.  His momentary bout of fright left as quickly as it had come.  He didn’t struggle in Steve’s grasp, once more arrogant and infuriatingly confident.  “Not that easy.”

Behind him Steve could hear Tony engage Deathlok again.  He didn’t know if Nat was okay, or if Clint was alright, or anything beyond the fact that if Tony was giving him a chance to wring information out of Garrett, and he was _taking_ it.  “What do you want from her?  If you want me, you can have me!”

Garrett’s lip had burst during the struggle.  “You’re not listening,” he returned, bold despite the rage in Steve’s eyes and the power coiled in his muscles and the weight bearing down on him.  “It’s not that easy.”

“Then make it that easy!” he snapped.  His voice cracked.  He’d never negotiated with a villain before, never sunk so low as to be willing to give them want they wanted in order to get what he needed.  This situation was unfathomable.  “Why did you take her?  What do I have to do to get her back?”

Garrett smiled.  Steve completely lost his patience.  He grabbed the SHIELD agent by the throat and dragged him violently through the lab, away from the fight.  “Cap!  Cap, wait!”  Someone was calling for him, but he didn’t hear it.  All he could hear was Sarah, laughing.  Sarah, singing.  Sarah, babbling and crying and screaming for him…

There was an annex of sorts in the back of the area, and he roughly threw Garrett into it.  The man hit the tiled floor hard, screeching as he slid across it.  “Why did you take her?” he demanded again, annunciating each word slowly and harshly.  He stalked forward, letting every bit of his ire drive him.  “Why?”

“Wasn’t my call,” Garrett said.  Gingerly he climbed to his feet.

“Then whose was it?” Steve asked.  His control was hanging by a thread, and the sounds of Tony getting absolutely _thrashed_ outside weren’t helping.  “Whose was it?  Whose?  Who ordered you to–”

He stopped himself.  It had to be Mandy.  It had to be.  Nothing else made sense.  Whoever she was, _she_ was pulling their strings.

Garrett smiled thinly, detecting that Steve had come to the right realization.  “Starting to get it now?” he asked.  His eyes were dark, humorless despite the grin still plastered all over his face.  “This runs deeper and darker than you know.  More than hyped up super soldiers.  More than me.  More than SHIELD.”

“What does SHIELD have to do with it?”  Garrett said nothing to that.  A particularly loud crash resounded in the lab, and the building nearly shook.  There was no time.  He had a feeling that if he didn’t get information from Garrett now, he wasn’t going to.  And Garrett was still simply grinning at him, condescension clear in his eyes.  Steve’s mind raced, and it took him to one conclusion.  He only had one thing to use against this man.  “What about Ward?”

That didn’t get the reaction for which he’d hoped.  “What about him?”

“He’s in our custody,” Steve said.  Surely Garrett knew that; after all, it was pretty clear Garrett had _sent_ Ward to them to spring this trap, lure the Avengers here, and destroy them with their Centipede soldiers.  Ward seemed to have a great deal of emotional attachment to this man.  Perhaps it went both ways.

But it was sadly and starkly clear that it didn’t.  “What?  You think that concerns me?  You think you can use him against me?”  Garrett laughed again, a haughty, cruel thing that made Steve’s blood boil.  “That would only work if I cared about him.”

For some reason, this angered him even further.  He couldn’t say why; Ward was as much his enemy as Garrett was.  Ward had been the one to physically snatch Sarah and Pepper away from Tony.  He wasn’t an ally in this.  But seeing Garrett brush him aside like this…  Steve wasn’t sure about much, but whatever loyalty and affection Ward felt for this man was genuine.  He knew that.  “He seems to care an awful lot about you.”

“His mistake.”  The lab shook again.  God, he needed to get back in there and help them!  But Garrett’s next words drew him right back.  The man was oily, nothing more than a monster, and he _knew_ he was getting to Steve more and more.  Digging hooks into him and ripping.  “You know what it’s like.  A kid loves you, and you can lead them on with just the tiniest promise of loving him right back.”  A toothy grin.  “You can get ’em to feel anything.  Say anything.  Do anything.  Show up at the right place and the right time and he’s selling his soul to make you proud.”  Steve couldn’t believe this.  He supposed this shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, but it did.  “You want to break him?  Get some answers?  Go ahead.  He cracks easily if you pressure him right, push the right buttons.”

Unbidden this image of Ward cowering in terror and suffering with the abuse of his family and then the abuse of this man came racing through Steve’s head.  It made him sick.  “What did you do to him?”

“Turned him into the man he is today.  Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with kids?  Teach them to be who they’re meant to be?  Your dad taught you how to be a soldier, and he wasn’t even there to do it.  That’s how powerful parents are.”  Garrett chuckled.  “And I taught him how to be a traitor.  Product of his environment.”

Steve didn’t want to hear any more of this.  He wasn’t hearing _anything_ really _._ Somebody was shouting (Tony?  Clint?), but he couldn’t focus on it.  This couldn’t be happening.  There had to be answers.  There had to be _something._   “Where’s Sarah?” he snapped.  “Where’s Pepper?  Tell me, damn it!  _Talk!_ ”

“Cap!  He’s incoming!  Cap!”

“No, you tell me, Cap.  What do you want to teach your daughter to be?  Because where she is now…  Who she’s with…  I don’t think you’re going to like what they want.”  Steve saw red.  The last shred of his restraint snapped, and he was balling his hand into a tight fist and hitting before he could stop himself.  Garrett _caught it_.  Just like that, he whipped his arm up and snatched the punch right before it could reach his face.  His grip was hard, tight, painful.  _Superhuman.  What the hell…_

“Steve, do you copy?  Deathlok’s coming at you!”

The older man sneered, shaking with the effort of holding back Captain America.  And Steve was shaking, too, in a grotesque mixture of fury, horror, and surprise.  Who was this guy?  “You’re _never_ going to get her back.”

The wall behind them exploded.  Steve ripped around, wrenching away from Garrett and racing to protect himself with his shield.  Debris flew all around, the remains of the wall bombarding them both in a fiery rain of drywall and glass and cement.  Another explosion rocked the building; Steve looked around desperately, trying to see the rest of the team, cursing himself for having been so selfish as to leave them alone for the scant few seconds he’d spent interrogating Garrett.  “Avengers, report!”

 _“Deathlok’s coming at you!”_ Tony shouted.  Cold horror left him reeling for a split second before he dug his boots into the floor for leverage against the onslaught.  It wasn’t enough, and Deathlok came barreling through the hole in the wall right toward him.

Steve gave a ragged cry, stumbling over his own feet as he was shoved back.  Deathlok punched at him, smacking his shield.  Again.  And again.  The dull rattle of each blow was thunderous, louder than his racing heart and the crackling of fire and the shouts of the battle.  An alarm started to shrilly wail, and the fire prevention system went off.  The sprinklers embedded into the ceiling doused them all in a cold deluge.  The room lights winked out, and red emergency beacons flashed, barely visible through the smoke and haze of drywall dust.  Steve ducked under another blow, twisting lithely in an attempt to retreat.  Deathlok didn’t let him go, kicking his legs out from under him.  Steve rolled, avoiding Deathlok’s crushing stomp.  The tile crumbled under the force of it.  Steve fought back, hitting him square in the chest with enough energy to knock him across the room.  He was barely able to ground himself before the cyborg was on him again.  Water slicked everything, and when Deathlok tackled him, he slipped under both their weights and went down hard.

Steve struggled, but he was helpless.  And there was no fanfare, no taunting now.  Deathlok simply grabbed the back of his neck, lifted him, and slammed his face down into the floor.  Pain lanced through Steve’s head, hot and nauseating.  Blood filled his mouth.  He wasn’t sure from where.  And darkness encroached on his vision.  He blinked it away, but it was persistent.  Vaguely he heard more yelling, heard Tony and Clint and Natasha, but he couldn’t focus anymore.  And vaguely he knew he needed to fight, to get away, that _Sarah needed him,_ but he _couldn’t_.  Everything felt stretched long, hazy and indistinct.  Pinned under Deathlok, he could only blink languidly at the wet boots that came to stand in front of him.  “You’re never going to get her back,” Garrett said again.  “She’s got her now.”

_No!_

Again the surge of strength came.  He shoved back on the pull of unconsciousness, throwing his body up and flinging Deathlok off of him.  He _fought_ then, fought like he never had before.  He landed blow after blow.  None of them alone did much damage, but Deathlok (and Garrett) seemed surprised at his defiance enough that all the punches and kicks together were driving them back.  Natasha was suddenly there, ramming her Widow’s Bite into their opponent’s chest.  And Clint ran toward them.  An arrow drove its way into Deathlok’s shoulder, anchoring itself into the skin there.  It detonated with a soft, vibrating thud.  An EMP.  Deathlok’s right arm went uselessly limp.

Tony thudded down beside Steve, his armor scraped and dented, and immediately joined the fray.    The EMP probably wouldn’t last long, but without verbal direction the team set to concentrating on Deathlok’s compromised side.  They were four against one now.  Steve whirled, driving his shield in between the metal plates on Deathlok’s torso as Natasha fired on him.  The armor cracked.  “Tony!” Steve called.

Iron Man was already there, trying to get a grip on the cyborg.  “Crack the shell,” Tony muttered, “and see what sort of treasures we can find.”  Steve hit him again.  And again.  Cracking said shell was going to take more than what he had.  Together he and Tony finally restrained Deathlok, holding him as he flailed and struggled maniacally.

“Is there a damn off-switch?” Natasha gasped, recoiling from the mess of tangled up limbs and weapons.

Tony gritted his teeth, desperate not to let go.  “JARVIS thinks there’s some sort of control unit on his back!  I don’t know.  Looks like a Centipede apparatus, but more.  If we could–”

“Garrett’s running!” Clint yelled angrily.  “He’s running away!”  Steve turned, distracted, just in time to see Garrett disappear out the other end of the lab.  Clint swore loudly, racing after him.

_“Steve!”_

He snapped back to it, but not fast enough.  Deathlok had shoved Tony away and was on him once more.  He took Steve’s arm where it was trying to pin him across the shoulders, twisted, and broke it like a twig.  Steve couldn’t keep a scream of pain inside as he was driven down onto his knees, the cyborg holding him by his damaged wrist.  Those dark red eyes narrowed emotionlessly, teeming with a need to follow his orders and _beat_ Captain America, and the next thing Steve knew, he was on the ground again under the hulking weight of the monster.  That was the last thing he knew, actually.  Deathlok leaned up, raised his fist, and viciously knocked him out.

* * *

“Daddy?”

He gave a long, drowsy breath.  “What is it, baby?”

“Sleep with you?”

He opened his eyes and saw Sarah.  She was holding her stuffed animal tight to her chest and standing right beside his bed.  He blinked slumber away, sitting up a little.  “What’s the matter?  Didya have a bad dream?”  In the darkness, her huge blue eyes welled with tears.  She nodded, the pink of her lower lip trembling.  “Oh, honey.  It’s alright.  C’mere.”  Her face crumpled completely, and he would have done anything, given _anything_ , to take away her fears.  To make it okay.  He raised his blankets in invitation, and she struggled up into his bed.  Gently he hooked his arms under hers and lifted her.  She settled against him, her small body tight to his chest, and he sank back down into the pillows and arranged the blanket over them both.  He let loose a long breath, stroking her hair from her forehead.  “It’s alright,” he whispered.  She was crying; he could feel the tears soaking into his shirt.  “Don’t cry.  I’m right here.  It’s alright.  I promise.”  He kissed her head, holding her tighter, as tight as he could.  In the quiet of the night, her weeping slowly stopped.  Her breathing evened out.  “Promise,” he murmured, drifting himself.  The world went dark, but that was alright.  She was right there in his arms.  “Just close your eyes, and when you wake up, it’s all gonna be okay.”

_I’ve got you, baby girl.  It’s all alright.  I promise._

“Steve?”

He didn’t have her.  Her little body disappeared from his arms.  The safety of his bedroom, of _their home_ , vanished.  And when he breathed again, he couldn’t smell her.  He couldn’t see her.  He couldn’t _feel_ her.  She wasn’t there.

_Sarah was gone._

And, Lord, his head hurt.

“Steve, can you open your eyes?”

He did, and that made it so much worse.  His brain felt like it was pulsing against the confines of his skull.  Everything was spinning and spinning fast.  He swallowed down the burn of bile in the back of his throat and blinked, freeing tears that had been trapped under his eyelids.  Speaking seemed impossible for a moment, his tongue and lips fairly incapable of forming any words (and his brain too jumbled and wracked with agony to think of anything to say at any rate).  Eventually he managed to focus on whoever was standing beside him.  Not Sarah.  Red hair and a soot-streaked pale face and eyes teeming with concern.  “Nat?”

She smiled sadly.  “Take it easy.”

He grimaced.  His memories were slow to return, and he was sitting up before they fully did.  Before he recalled his arm was broken.  He couldn’t keep the pained gasp inside, barely swallowing down the nausea tightening his throat.  “Captain Rogers, please,” came a voice he didn’t quite recognize.  He lifted his gaze and found a blurry image of a pretty young woman in front of him with shoulder-length brown hair and concerned eyes.  “You’ve sustained a rather serious concussion.”

He couldn’t place her British voice or pretty face for a moment.  Then the name came from the haze in his head.  Jemma Simmons, Coulson’s expert biochemist.  She was grimacing sympathetically, not quite brave enough to touch him even though she clearly wanted to.  “Really.  You should lie back down.”

Natasha _was_ touching him, and rather insistently she was pushing him down.  Steve went for a moment because his whole body was throbbing, weirdly feeling not quite his own.  But then it all came back.  _Sarah._ The pain and the hands keeping him on the bed didn’t stop him.  _Get up._   It was almost like an automatic response.  It always had been, even when he’d been small and sick.  _Get up.  Keep fighting._   _Keep looking for her._   That jolted his limbs, a spasm of pure misery coupled with mounting fear.  “Steve, stop.”  Natasha grasped his shoulders and stilled him from making any further attempt at standing.  “Just stop.  She’s right.  You need to rest.”

Each moment afforded him more clarity and better control over himself.  He could practically feel the serum revitalizing him, helping him push past the pain and think.  _Sarah’s gone.  They have her.  I need to get her back._ “What happened?” he asked Natasha.

She didn’t look pleased.  “After Deathlok dropped you, he and Garrett tucked tail and ran.  Clint tried to pursue them, but…”  What she didn’t say was obvious.  He could see bruises on her, a large one across her brow, and the way she was standing suggested she couldn’t quite put all her weight on her left leg.  And he took better stock of himself, noticing the brace around his damaged arm and the array of bandages covering him (these, of course, in addition to the bandages from being flung down the highway earlier).  He was a mess, and he groaned in dismay, angry that he’d been so sloppy, so foolish.  So _stupid_.  They’d gone in there and had their rears handed to them.  And they had _nothing_ to show for it.  They’d gained nothing!  “Don’t start,” she warned softly.  He looked up sharply and met her eyes.  She shook her head.  “He could have killed you.  We had to get you out of there, fall back and regroup…”

Steve didn’t want to hear it.  He could feel Simmons’ gaze on him, wide, curious, and worried.  Somehow the weight of that felt more like an accusation than even his own guilty conscience lambasting him for _failing_ so terribly.  The scientist shifted nervously.  Steve didn’t turn to look at her, closing his eyes and leaning subconsciously into Natasha’s warm form.  She didn’t hesitate to offer a hug, even with Simmons there watching.  And that was just as well, because he needed it.  He needed it so badly.  He shuddered, getting his breathing under control.  He thought he should feel more upset, but he didn’t.  The tears that had come so easily before were now elusive, distant as though he’d cried all he could cry and now there was nothing more than this hollow ache inside him.  “She has her, Nat.”

“Who?”

“Amanda.  Whatever her name is.  _Whoever_ she is.”  Steve sighed, staring at the torn, bloodied fabric of his uniform pants over his knees.  “Garrett practically said she has Sarah.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed.  “Why?  What does she want?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, frustration leaving him even more exhausted and pained.  “I don’t know.  She seemed…  I didn’t say this before because I thought I must have been crazy, but she seemed _familiar_ to me.  Like I’ve met her before, but I know I haven’t.  Something’s _wrong_ about this.”

“Besides all of the obvious?” Natasha said softly, and it wasn’t meant to upset him so Steve bit his lower lip and kept his composure despite the widening cracks in his resolve.  “I think Coulson has Skye trying to track her down.”

“Yes,” Simmons offered, “and so far I’m sorry to say she hasn’t had any luck.”  She looked miserably at Steve, her eyes teeming with sympathy.  “I know there isn’t much I can do, Captain, but whatever I can, I’m willing and able.”

Steve wiped a hand down his face, only somewhat surprised to find his eyes were dry.  “Thank you,” he managed.  He looked more carefully at his arm where it was splinted, wrapped up, and tight in a sling against his chest.  “How bad is it?”

“Fractured in two places,” Simmons reported unhappily.  “Your leg is wounded as well, and your ankle is seriously sprained.  He nearly cracked your skull.  You shouldn’t push yourself.”

Like there was a choice.  He’d fought in worse shape before.  “What about Tony?  And Clint?”  He looked around, realizing now that he had no idea what this place was.  It definitely wasn’t the infirmary inside Stark Tower.  “And where are we?”

“Oh, well.”  Simmons actually blushed.  She came over to grab his unbroken arm as he levered himself gingerly to his feet.  Natasha wasn’t pleased with that, her lips taut in a particular frown she wore that always reminded Steve of Peggy when she encountered something to her disliking.  However, she wisely chose not to stop him.  Simmons smiled, gazing around quickly and rather appreciatively.  “This is the Bus.”

Steve’s brain still wasn’t functioning quite right.  “The what?”

Natasha’s lips quirked in the tiniest bit of a humorless smile.  “Apparently Coulson’s been traveling in style these days.  It’s a modified jet aircraft, the precursor to the helicarrier but outfitted with SHIELD’s latest and greatest in technology.”

He didn’t make sense of that for another second, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.  Then he pieced that together with Coulson’s promise to deliver a mobile command center.  This was surely it.  Of course, the enormity of that was more than a little disturbing.  Coulson was alive.  Coulson was alive and had a team of highly trained SHIELD experts and specialists.  Coulson was alive with this team and flying a huge jet around the world on missions for Fury and the Avengers hadn’t known about it.  It was mind-boggling.  This was far and away SHIELD’s best-kept secret.  He didn’t know whether to be impressed or furious.

 _“This runs deeper and darker than you know.”_   Garrett had said that, and it made all of his doubts about SHIELD come right back to the surface.  He didn’t think Coulson was playing them; he had nothing to gain by outing himself to the Avengers.  And Steve trusted Skye.  He didn’t know what it was about her specifically, but he knew beyond any doubt that she’d never do anything to put Sarah in harm’s way.  But the rest of SHIELD…  He even had doubts about Fury.  Fury had lied to them for years, lied to them every time he’d called for them to assemble.  At the very least he simply hadn’t come clean about a fortuitous turn of events when Coulson had pulled through.  At worst, he’d manipulated _everyone_ , the Avengers and Coulson both.  Either way, that coupled with stolen blood samples, Blake’s duplicity, and Ward and Garrett being unrepentant traitors…  _“And I taught him how to be a traitor.  Product of his environment.”_

He shook himself free of those thoughts.  It was water under the bridge at this point.  Tony was right.  They were done with SHIELD.  Once they got Sarah and Pepper back, they were cutting ties completely.  “Where are we?” he asked as he took a tentative step away from the bed on which he’d been laying.

Natasha let him go but stayed close in case he needed her support.  “We’re parked at IAD.”

“Status?”

“Stark’s trying to figure out how to beat Deathlok.  He’s got scans from the battle, and he and Banner are down in Agent Fitz’s lab working through it.  They’re hoping to find a way to shut him down without killing him.”  Steve turned to Natasha, and when he saw the honesty in her cool eyes, his gut clenched in dismay.  “Yeah, it gets worse.  This guy they used for the project wasn’t exactly a willing participant.  Apparently it started out that way.  He was a recruit for the Centipede program who was rescued by Coulson’s group.”

“Mike Peterson,” Simmons offered.  “Single father trying to do the best he could for his son.  He was injured on the job, and they preyed on him, promised him a chance to reclaim his strength.  He’s a decent man.  We encountered him on our first mission together under Agent Coulson.  Fitz and I managed to alter a gun to inject him with a ‘cure’, if you will, to Centipede, but the formula has drastically changed since then.  Our original fix no longer disables the Extremis portion.”

Steve appraised her evenly.  “Have you and Bruce made any headway on that?  Those guys…”

“They were mad out of their minds with aggression.  And not easy to beat,” Natasha said.  She shook her head, wearing the evidence of just how difficult the fight had been all over her body.  “They beat you up.  Beat Tony up.  We have to stop this.”

“Doctor Banner and I have developed an anti-serum to Centipede,” Simmons said.  “With what he and Mr. Stark have already discovered about Extremis, it wasn’t hard at all.  But it relies on Extremis’ metabolic pathways, and if Agent Blake and his team find a way to stabilize Extremis themselves with blood samples from Ms. Potts, it’s quite possible they could render their soldiers immune to our anti-serum, just as they did last time.  And if they get a hold of a purified sample of the super soldier serum…”  She didn’t finish.  It was the same threat, over and over again.  They had Pepper, so they had a stabilized version of Extremis.  They had Sarah, so they had leverage over the only pure source of the super soldier serum there was.

 The same threat.  And the same inability to neutralize it.  Steve ground his teeth together.  “We have to find them.”  He was already walking toward the door to the lab.

Natasha glanced at Simmons before following.  “We have no leads,” she reminded.  “Garrett’s gone.  Clint and Tony are trying to track him, but there’s nothing.”  He didn’t want to hear that.  He wasn’t going to listen to it.  His arm was throbbing, and his head was pounding like someone was jackhammering inside his skull, but he wasn’t going to stop or lay down or anything.  He limped along the corridor, not having the faintest idea where he was going but knowing he needed to move.  “Steve.  Steve!”  She grabbed his arm and stopped him.  “Wait.”

“Nat, I can’t wait.  I can’t think.  I have to find her.  I don’t know if this is just some game to them or what, but I can’t let them have the upper hand anymore.”

She sighed shortly.  “I know, but what can you do?  I want her back, too, but…”  Then she understood.  “You’re going to work Ward over.”

Steve held her gaze, aching so miserably inside.  His eyes slipped shut a moment, and he found himself leaning into the bulkhead behind him.  The urge to do _something_ was so overpowering that he was shaking with the effort of restraint.  He’d sworn to himself that he’d never be the bully, never engage in behavior that was _wrong_ no matter how desperate he became or how much easier succumbing to baser instincts would be.  He’d never compromise who he was.  But Sarah’s life was on the line.  What sort of father would he be if he didn’t do everything in his power to save her?  Wouldn’t he sacrifice anything, including himself, to rescue her?  Tony used to joke that the only thing he loved in this world was his morals and scruples, that he was some sort of beacon of ethical infallibility shining on the high ground in a sea of gray immorality.  That had been back before they’d become so close, when everything they’d said and done had gotten under each other’s skin.  But it irked him now, because he felt like it was true.  He’d held himself back with Ward before.  And with Garrett.

Tony was hurt.  He was hurt.

And Sarah was still missing and in the hands of his enemies.

Ward was the only connection he had to Sarah.  What sort of father would he be if he didn’t _use_ that?

 _One trapped between a rock and a hard place._   “I have to press him,” he said, gathering himself and using his anger and fear as a shield against his doubts and the inherent unpleasantness of what he was about to do.  It was such an unknown, lying and manipulating and maybe even hurting someone else, but what choice was there now?  “I have to get him to talk.”

“Steve–”

“Don’t try to stop me,” he warned.  He pushed himself off the bulkhead and starting walking again, purpose driving his steps faster and harder.

She took his hand, his good hand, and made him slow again.  Her eyes were hard, sharp blue and unreadable.  “I’m not going to try and stop you,” she said lowly.  And of course she wouldn’t.  She was who she was.  And she knew better than anyone that sometimes the ends justified the means.  “But if you want to force him to talk…  Let me do it.”

“I can’t ask you do that.”

“You’re not.”  Her face softened, and her voice dropped to a quiet murmur.  She hesitated.  He didn’t think he’d ever really seen her like this before.  Raw and desperate.  “I – I love her, too, Steve.  She came into my life and filled a place in my heart I never even knew was empty.”  That made tears sting his eyes, and he realized he _had_ seen her like this.  Once before.  Unbidden his mind went back to that night in the hospital after he’d been hurt, when she’d come to tell him about what the Red Room had done to her, what they’d taken from her.  How she’d been afraid of Sarah, afraid of what she meant, of how she would make her feel.  That seemed so long ago.  Natasha had changed so much.  They all had.

She gathered herself, sniffling slightly and shaking her head.  “And I’ll be damned if I stand by and do nothing while these monsters hurt her.  Or you.”  Natasha cupped his face, thumb sweeping over bruises, and stared hard into his eyes.  “And I’ll be damned if I see you turn yourself into something you’re not because of this.  I’m not letting you lose yourself.  You’re the one we all look to, and if you’re lost…”

He didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t know how she’d so easily seen right through to his heart.  Maybe she always could.  He’d realized a long time ago that he wasn’t like her.  Or Clint.  They were spies, SHIELD agents, people who lived and thrived in a world of moral ambiguities.  He wasn’t.  And she was trying to spare him from the burden of guilt and shame that came with that kind of power.  “I’m not letting you do this by yourself,” he declared.  Even though he had no doubt in his mind that she _could_ and _would_ do whatever was necessary to extract information from Ward, he knew Black Widow wasn’t the murderer and temptress she once had been.  She valued other things now, clean and pure things.  She _loved_.  And he wasn’t about to have to her jeopardize that.  He wasn’t going to watch her throw all of that away on his behalf.  He didn’t want to see her lose _herself,_ either.  “I can’t have you fight my battles for me.”

“This isn’t just your battle.  It never has been.  When you brought her home, we all went into this together.  And we still are,” she said.  “All of us.  Tony and Clint and Bruce and Thor.  You and me.  Together.  We’re a family, and she’s our girl.  We’re getting her back, no matter what.”

He nodded, eyes burning.  He shouldn’t be this weak, this scared.  Not again.

But he was.  “Tell me it’s alright,” he implored softly.  “Please.”

She brought him into her arms and held him tight again.  “It’s all alright,” she whispered.  “I promise.”


	8. Chapter 8

If Steve hadn’t been so trapped in a maelstrom of twisting and churning emotion, he probably would have noticed that Phil Coulson looked about ready to beat the answers out of Ward himself.  He was standing inside a central command room on the Bus.  Beyond that and down the hall there was an interrogation room that more resembled a cage than anything else.  Coulson was so taut with a scowl that it seemed like he was cracking his teeth.  Clint was with him, his battered face dark with a frown and steely eyes.  They’d been talking, having perhaps come to some sort of terms with each other out of necessity.  The archer turned, his face slackening in commiseration at seeing his battered leader.  “You alright?”  Steve nodded, even though he wasn’t.  And Clint saw through that.  He visibly deflated, touching Steve’s good shoulder and pulling him closer in an uncharacteristic show of grief.  “I’m sorry.  I tried to catch them, but…  Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s alright,” Steve responded.  He watched the monitors before them, which revealed Ward, still filthy and bloodied and dressed in his ripped combat outfit.  The room was dark, gray, and quiet.  The SHIELD specialist was sitting with his back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest.  “There’s no more time.  We have to get him to talk.”

Clint shared a look with Natasha.  “By all means,” he said wearily.  “But I’ve been trying.  He’s a damn rock.”  He sighed, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest.  “He was trained to take whatever we throw at him.  SHIELD’s good at what it does.  And I know you’re not too keen on the harsher methods…”

Steve stared malevolently at Ward, not letting his doubt pierce his resolve.  “I’m becoming more open to the idea.”

Again, Clint glanced at Natasha.  Steve felt her nod beside him.  The archer seemed surprised and then displeased, but he was such a master at controlling his own emotions that it was hardly noticeable and quickly contained.

“Whatever his story is, I don’t think Ward’s anything more than a pawn in this,” Coulson said.  “I had Skye go back through his service record.  Knowing what we know now, some things that looked normal before – well, maybe not entirely normal, but normal enough – are suspicious now.  Garrett’s been more than an SO to him.  More than a mentor, too.”

“A father figure?” Natasha asked.

Coulson nodded grimly.  “Something like that.  I had to pull some strings to get this declassified, but…  A few years ago, right before I recruited Ward for my team, he and Garrett were captured on what should have been a routine op in Pakistan hunting down some information pertaining to stolen nuclear weapons.  They were held by terrorists for almost two weeks before the STRIKE Team found them and got them out.  The disparity in their physical conditions was odd enough that the medical team made a note of it.”

Clint shook his head.  “What do you mean, ‘the disparity’?”

Coulson was troubled, and not just because one of his team was responsible for the mess in which they were finding themselves.  It went deeper than that.  Like Skye cared for Ward, it was fairly obvious he did, too.  He was torn about the situation, unable to reconcile what he knew with what he felt.  “Ward was tortured.  Badly.  They really went at him, enough that he was medical leave for almost six months.  The doctors weren’t sure he’d pull through for a while.”  His face darkened.  “But Garrett was alright, aside from a few bumps and bruises.  Considering the amount of time they spent in captivity and the amount of damage done to Ward, it seemed unusual.  Garrett claimed they hurt Ward to try and make him talk, since he was the mission’s leader and the senior commanding officer.  But–”

“You think Ward took the hits on Garrett’s behalf?” Clint asked.  “Protected him?”

Coulson wasn’t at happy with that.  “Makes sense.  Garrett trained him.  Who knows what he trained him to do.”  He shared a hard look with Steve.  “Or how.”

Steve didn’t like the sound of this.  He knew what he should have been doing, what this information should have told him.  It was a way to manipulate Ward, to get at him.  To use his relationship with Garrett against him.  But that wasn’t what it made him think.  It wasn’t empowering.  It was _disgusting_.  Ward might have been their enemy, but Steve couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.  He’d grown up in a terrible home, faced abuse all his life, and Garrett had manipulated that to turn him into _this_ , this heartless, cruel man who would kidnap a child…  Coulson went on.  “And that wasn’t the only time Ward’s returned from a mission beaten up, for lack of a better way of describing it.  Every report about it that Garrett prepared basically has him writing it off.  Downplaying it.  He even pulled Ward back onto active duty after Pakistan well before SHIELD medical cleared him.  It’s a pattern of behavior.  A pattern of abuse.”  He sighed.  “I really hate to say it, but if Garrett ordered him to do this, he might not have had the capacity to say no.  This relationship between them is twisted and screams of an abusive parent controlling a child.”

“He’s not a child,” Clint reminded sharply.

“I don’t know how responsible he is for–”

“Don’t,” the archer snapped, and Coulson shut his mouth.  “The only thing this means is physical persuasion probably isn’t going to be effective.  Obviously he’s taken it on Garrett’s behalf before and not cracked.  The guy knows how to deal with pain.  He’s been trained to ignore it.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head a little to clear it.  He couldn’t care about this now.  Ward wasn’t a victim.  _He’s not a victim._

But he was.

 _I can’t do this._ “Clint, where’s Tony?”

Clint turned to him.  “Down with Banner and Agent Fitz, I think.  Why?”

“Get him up here.  And Skye.”  Coulson nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket to summon the others.  “If we’re going at this, we have to come from a different angle.”

Clint was frustrated.  “We tried that, Cap.  Making him feel guilty hasn’t gotten us anything.  I don’t think he has a conscience, or if he did, it’s been beaten out of him a long time ago.”

Steve looked at Clint.  “Everybody has a conscience,” he said firmly.  _And it’s never too late to listen to it._

A few minutes later, Tony appeared with Skye in tow.  Tony looked rough.  His eyes were dark with worry and exhaustion, his hair askew, his clothes disheveled.  His arm was back in the sling.  He was jittery again, struck with nervous, useless energy he was trying to keep contained.  Obviously he was feeling the passage of every second as acutely as Steve was.  “We’re doing everything we can to track Garrett,” Tony said, assuming they’d been summoned for a status report.  “And I might have found a way to shut down Deathlok.  One of Quinn’s companies, Cybertek Industries, designed most of his implants and Frankenstein parts.  Skye was able to hack their servers, and we found out he’s being controlled by an ocular implant of some sort, not unlike the one you and your team encountered earlier this year in your ex-gal pal.”

“Akeela Amador?” Coulson supplied.

“Yes,” Skye said.  “Between the data we collected from her implant and what Mr. Stark was able to record during the battle, I think there’s a way we can interfere with the commands Garrett and whoever else is sending Mike.”

“So wait a minute…  This Peterson guy’s another unwilling participant in this scheme?” Clint asked.  Skye looked unhappy and nodded.  Steve bit the inside of his lip in dismay.  This situation was getting more and more complicated.  Their new enemies _weren’t_ enemies, at least not all of them.  Ward and Peterson.  Used and abused and twisted.  And for what?  _If they’re the puppets, who’s holding the strings?_

_Mandy._

_But why?_

Clint was still questioning Skye.  “So why doesn’t he just ignore whatever they’re telling him?”

Skye walked over to one of the monitors and switched the image so that it was no longer showing Ward and was instead displaying a diagram of the implant.  “This thing is more than just a device to rely instructions neurologically.  It’s also a bomb, and if the feed to the source is manipulated or disrupted, it will go off.”

“So they’re watching him, and if he doesn’t obey, they could kill him at any time,” Natasha surmised, one hand on her chin and the other across her chest as she looked over the data Skye was showing them.  All Steve saw when he looked was Peterson’s blood red eyes staring at him emptily, devoid of anything but the cold, mechanical directive to _destroy_.

Skye nodded sadly.  “Yes.  He’s a prisoner.”

“Great,” Clint muttered.  “Let me know when we find the _actual_ bad guys behind this fiasco.”

“If we have to fight Deathlok again, I think I can disrupt the feed to the implant,” Tony declared.  “Now that JARVIS knows what to look for, it shouldn’t be too difficult provided I can get close enough.  That control unit I spotted on his back?  There’s an access port there that’s wired directly into his nervous system.  Our little team of geniuses has devised a series of signal pulses that will shut down the feed to ocular implant long enough for us to surgically remove it.  Skye can hack the feed and hopefully convince his handlers that he’s still up and running while we excise the eye, which, by the way, is a fairly complex procedure according to Bruce.”

“How long?” Coulson asked.

“Will it be shut down?  Or will it take me to shut it down?”

“Both.”

“We’d have about three minutes from when we drop him,” Tony said.  The room was quiet at that, quiet with the enormity of what Tony was suggesting.  In order to save this man’s life, they were going to need to perform delicate surgery in the field with no time and in less than ideal circumstances.  “And that’s the good news.  In order to deliver the signal to get Skye into the system and shut him down, I’m going to need to be in contact with that port for about thirty seconds.  Continuously.  Any interruption and we’ll have to start over.”

The silence persisted.  Natasha stared at Tony.  “So you’re telling me,” she finally began, “that we need to hold this wildly strong and fast cybernetic robot thing still for thirty seconds _without_ hurting him so you can jack into his network.  And then we need to perform delicate surgery on his face in order to remove his exploding eye before it detonates.  All while he’s trying to kill us.”

Tony stared back her.  “Basically, yeah.”

Clint looked around, like he was considering if it was worth the trouble given everything else they had on their plates.  Then he sighed.  “Fantastic.”

“None of that’s going to mean a thing if we can’t find them,” Natasha said.  She turned to Steve.  The drive to do anything necessary to break Ward was gone from her, as well.  Tempered by compassion.  “How do you want to handle this?”

This, of course, being figuring out how to pressure Ward.  Steve gathered his thoughts, reaching to the monitor to swipe Skye’s data aside and appraise the fallen SHIELD agent anew.  He’d been told a few times in the past that he was good at reading people; that was what made him such an effective leader.  And all he saw when he looked at Ward was a scared little kid, cowering in the corner and waiting for a parent to come and save him.  Maybe he was projecting, but the tense yet defeated posture, the glazed appearance of his eyes, the way he was trying to stay absolutely still…  _There’s got to be a way to get through to him that doesn’t involve hurting him._   “Tony, did JARVIS get audio of the fight?”

Tony’s expression turned quizzical.  He came closer to stand on Steve’s other side.  “Yeah.”

“Even my argument with Garrett?”

“Yeah.  Why?”

“Garrett might have given us the weapon we need against him.  He told me he didn’t care about what happens to Ward,” Steve said, turning to his friend.  Tony watched him blankly a moment before his face loosened in understanding.  He reached to the touch screen and tapped a few spaces on it quickly, no doubt copying the audio recording of the battle to the Bus’ computer system.  Steve turned to Natasha.  “He needs to _see_ that he’s been hung out to dry.  We told him before, but he didn’t believe it coming from us.  If we can’t get him to come around because it’s the right thing to do, we need to press him on what he cares about.”

“Garrett,” she said.

He nodded.  He pivoted, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg.  “Skye, I don’t want to put you in this position again, but–”

She came closer.  “I’ll do whatever I have to,” she said with absolute certainty in her voice.  He still saw the worry in her eyes, though, and any doubts he’d had before about her feelings for Ward were rapidly fading.  Coulson as well clearly felt responsible for him perhaps, but maybe even something more.  Something fatherly in his own right.  Something he felt for this whole group of agents.  They were _his_ team, maybe his family.  And that care and devotion had only grown knowing what they knew now about Ward’s past.  Much like they couldn’t just take out Deathlok, they needed to find a way to _save_ Ward somehow.  It was hard to think that, hard to focus on it with Sarah and Pepper in danger.

But they were the Avengers.  It was their job to _protect_.

And, again, any thought of _hurting_ Ward vanished, and he was ashamed to have even considered it.  He wasn’t going to compromise what he knew was right.  That guy trapped in the cell, no older than him…  He wasn’t bad.  He wasn’t evil.  He was another victim in all of this, just as Sarah and Pepper and Tony and he were all victims.  They had to turn him.  Steve knew they could turn him.

Natasha took his hand.  It was a subtle thing, a faint brush of her fingers to his.  A quick, light squeeze.  He glanced at her, caught her quick, confident nod.  Then he drew a deep breath and went to end this.  He stalked out of the room, quickly turning the corner and nearly plowing over Agent May as she approached.  Pain was ignored.  Doubt was ignored.  “Captain Rogers,” May called.  She followed him, confusion in her voice.  “Captain, wait.  What are you–”

“Open the door,” he ordered in front of the cell.

May watched him with a mixture of dismay and concern on her placid face.  He remained firm, unbending despite how tired and battered he was.  He was prepared for an argument, but she didn’t give one, instead pressing her thumb into the fingerprint scanner.  The locks clicked as they released, and Steve grabbed the door with his good hand and pushed it open.

Ward looked up from where he sat huddled in the shadows.  Steve stared at him again, stared and struggled to cling to that thought that Ward was a victim in all this.  A tool, not a perpetrator.  He was putting his faith in that.  He had to, but if he was wrong and Ward was as vile and evil as Garrett or Mandy or whatever threat was lurking in the shadows…  “You need to help me,” he said once he gathered his composure.

Ward stared at him with dark eyes.  There were lines of pain around his frown.  “I don’t need to do a damn thing,” he returned.

“Get up.”

“What?”

Steve limped across the room, pushing the metal table aside.  It scrapped loudly, practically flung with his strength.  He stood in front of Ward, looming over him.  “You need to help me find my daughter.  You’re going to help me find Ms. Potts.  This is the end of the line, and you are going to stand up and cross back over to the right side of it.”

Ward shook his head.  “One of your famous speeches, Rogers?  If that’s all you’ve got, it’s not gonna be enough.”

Steve smiled tightly.  “I’ve got more than a speech, Agent.  I’ve got a reminder of what team you’re on.  Whose side you’re on.  And that reminder is standing out there, _watching_ you, and wondering what could have happened to you to make you do this to them.”

Ward stared back.  “If they couldn’t see it coming, then they deserve it.”

“Betrayal?  They deserve that?  Having someone they trust turn on them?”  Ward said nothing to that.  He was smirking slightly, but his eyes were steely and his conceit was measured, like he was trying to seem more certain about it than he actually was.  “It was hard, wasn’t it,” Steve said, and it wasn’t a question.  “It was hard to lie to them, to pretend to be their friend and ally and _protector_.  Biding your time until Garrett told you he needed you.  Like a snake.”

“That’s right,” Ward said coolly.  “That’s what I do.  I’m an agent of SHIELD.”

Steve nodded, silent for a moment.  “Which was harder?  Lying to them or to yourself?”

Nothing.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

Ward’s face remained entirely impassive.  “There’s nothing you can do or say to me to make me turn on John,” he declared smugly.  “You should know that before you go any further.  I still don’t think it’s your style to try and pound what you want to know out of me, but desperation drives men into doing things they never thought they’d do.”

“I know it does.  I’m looking at a prime example of it.”  Ward’s face still betrayed nothing, but Steve thought he saw the tiniest of cracks in that cool and confident mask.  He blinked quickly.  Stiffened just slightly.  “I know the lengths you’d go to to protect him,” Steve declared.  “I know what happened in Pakistan.”

The cracks widened.  “How do you know about that?” Ward hissed.

“Did he train you to take the fall for him?  Did he order you to get hurt so that he wouldn’t be?”  Steve lowered his tone, trying to pour some compassion into it.  It was harder than it should have been.  “Maybe he didn’t even have to order you.  Maybe it’s just ingrained into you.  Get hit.  Hit back.  Follow orders.”

“You’re not very good at this,” Ward returned, though those fissures in his control suggested otherwise.  “Send Agent Romanoff in.  At least she presents a challenge.  And she’s nicer to look at.”

“What’s more abuse, huh?  You’ve lived a life of it.  Garrett probably thinks you’re used to it.  Probably thinks it doesn’t hurt anymore, but it still does, doesn’t it, Grant?”  Steve sighed.  “I’ve been beaten up a lot in my life, too.  You probably know that.  And it still hurts _every time._ ”

“Well, then you know pain is inconsequential,” Ward returned.

Steve didn’t like coming at him like this.  The more those cracks enlarged, the more he saw what he’d thought he saw before.  A scared, abused kid.  “Spoken like someone who’s never known anything else.  When I got beat up, I also had someone there to pick me up and clean me up and make it better.”  Ward flinched.  “You sound like someone who’s never had a friend.  Who’s never had someone to love him.”

“Give it a rest,” Ward spat.

“Garrett ever do that for you?  You said he taught you.  Did he teach you what it feels like to have someone care about you?  To have faith in you?  Love you like I love Sarah?”

“I’m not betraying John,” Ward adamantly declared.  “You can’t make me cooperate.  And you can’t make me turn on him.”

Steve nodded sadly.  “No, I can’t.  I can only give you a choice.”

“Then I choose to tell you to go to hell.  And take your self-righteous, sanctimonious trash with you.”  Steve said nothing to that, keeping his face calm and cool, trying to employ everything he’d ever learned from Natasha as he’d watched her pressure a suspect or interrogate a prisoner or just plain antagonize and bait the others.  And when Ward didn’t get the reaction he expected from Steve, he lost just a tad more of his composure, and the cracks widened further.  “You think you know me?  You don’t know anything about me.”

Steve wasn’t dissuaded.  “Maybe I don’t.  But I know it’s not too late to do the right thing.  Hence the choice.”

Ward rolled his eyes in disgust.  “Oh, please, spare me.”

Steve wasn’t going to spare him.  Not one bit of the guilt and shame he deserved.  Not one speck of condemnation.  “You think you’re so sure about this?  That you’re on the right side?  Then get up and go out and face them.  Face Coulson.  Face Skye.  You go out there and tell them that you’d rather be loyal to a man who beat you, who let you be tortured on his behalf, than to a team who’s done nothing but support you.”

That struck a nerve.  Ward’s glare hardened, and now he was on his feet.  Steve didn’t flinch or back away or even move as the other man stepped closer, close enough that they were nearly toe to toe.  He’d stood like this with far worse villains and maniacs, but this oddly felt more intimidating.  Not because Ward was more of a threat, but because so much more was riding on this.  _Sarah’s life_.  “You don’t know me,” Ward seethed again.  “You don’t know a damn thing about it.”

“Tell me where Sarah is,” Steve returned calmly.  “Tell me how to find my daughter.  Do the right thing.”

“No.”

“Then go out there and explain to Skye how you could do this to her.  Explain to her how you’re nothing more than a tool used by bad men to do bad things.  Go out there and tell her that _you’re weak._ ”

“Go to hell,” Ward snapped.

“She said it before.  She believes in you.  She believes you’re a good person.  So tell her she’s wrong.  Go out there and tell her that the man who pulled a baby out of a lab and wanted to do what was right by her…”  He almost faltered, but he didn’t.  “Go tell her that man is a lie.  The same lie that protected her on missions and was training her to be a SHIELD agent and jumped out of a plane to save Simmons.  Go tell her that she respected and admired and–”  He went all in.  There was no reason not to.  “– _loved_ a lie.”

Ward cracked.  His emotionless façade that he’d worn so expertly throughout all of this disappeared, and he raised his fist to hit Steve.  Even as banged up and sore as Steve was, even with his arm broken, Ward was simply no match for him.  He sidestepped the punch, snatching Ward’s wrist and whirling to bend his arm sharply and trap it behind his back.  He pushed his captive out of the room, manhandling him roughly through the door.  May was there, her sidearm drawn and pointed though it was really not necessary.  Captain America wasn’t going to be bested by a SHIELD specialist, no matter how good he was.  Steve shoved him down the hallway.  Ward stumbled and tripped over his own feet, breathing quickly and sharply through his nose, and Steve threw him less than gently into the room where the team was assembled.

“Go on!” Steve commanded.  Ward staggered, arms pin-wheeling in a vain effort to regain his balance.  He banged into the central console, grasping it to steady himself.  Those gathered backed away, surprise giving way to anger, to glares hot and vicious and accusing.  Steve stood between Tony and Natasha again.  “Go on and tell them.  _Tell her._ ”

Everyone was silent again.  Coulson, May, and Skye stood together.  The way Ward had burst into the room, he was staring right at them.  A few locks of dark hair had fallen over his bruised forehead.  And they were staring at them.  May, hard and unforgiving.  Coulson, his arms folded over his chest, gaze conflicted like he was fighting some desire to simply condemn the monster before him.

And Skye.  Steve battled his regrets when he saw the pain in the young woman’s eyes.  Pain at seeing Ward hurt, reduced to this, manipulated into hurting other people.  Nothing more than a variable in an awful equation.  But he kept his doubts under wraps, sharing a steadying look with Natasha.  She was close to him, arms across her chest and expression piercing.  This needed to happen.  He didn’t have any leverage against Ward, nothing he could really use to coerce him into cooperating (or into coming to his senses – it felt better to think of it that way).  But Skye and Coulson did.  Steve knew better than anyone the bonds of a team could run very deep.  They were formidable when they were forged in fire, powerful and unbreakable.  He’d had that sort of connection with the Howling Commandos and he had it again with the Avengers.  Friendships as deep as brotherhood.  Family.  Love and loyalty beyond question.  Those things, even as tentative as they might be in Coulson’s team, were powerful, strong enough to overcome ego and dark pasts and pain and disparate personalities.

Hopefully they’d be strong enough to pierce whatever suffering that had driven Ward into doing what he’d done.  To remind a lone wolf that he didn’t have to be alone.

“You need to help us,” Coulson said softly but sternly.  The tone of a caring but uncompromising leader.  A father.  “I don’t care about what you’ve done in the past.  If he’s made you do it.  Or not.  It doesn’t matter right now.  Right now you _need_ to help us find them and stop whatever Garrett is planning.”

Ward seemed unable to look away from Skye for a long, tense moment, but eventually he did.  He glanced at Coulson.  Over his shoulders at the Avengers.  Tony was tense beside Steve, tense like a coiled spring just waiting to attack.  Subtly Steve brushed his good arm along Tony’s hand, a warning, a pleading reminder to stay cool.  Ward was cornered in some ways but flushed out into the open in others.  He couldn’t run, but he had the freedom to make a choice.  Steve could only pray _(please, God, for Sarah please please please–)_ that he would make that choice and make the right one.

“I can’t turn my back on him,” Ward finally said.  “You don’t understand.”

“If he’s threatened you or hurt you, we can protect you,” Coulson declared.

Ward wasn’t convinced.  It went beyond fear, and Steve realized that instantly.  If Garrett had shown Ward even the slightest bit of respect and compassion during their tenure together, that was probably like a dream come true for a kid who’d grown up in a nightmare.  There was more than just loyalty to Coulson’s team at play here.  There was the loyalty Ward felt toward a man that to him was family.  “He never hurt me.  He never threatened me.  I did what I did because he _asked_ me to.  I can’t turn my back,” he said again, and he was gritting his teeth.

“You can’t turn your back on this, Agent Ward?” Natasha said coolly.  “Play it, Tony.”

The audio from the fight filled the room.  Steve’s argument with Garrett.  His own voice sounded so strained and burdened and _angry_ to his ears.  Alien.  “What about Ward?”

And Garrett’s voice was practically dripping with that hideous arrogance.  “What about him?”

“He’s in our custody.”

“What?  You think that concerns me?  You think you can use him against me?”  Garrett’s cruel laugh.  Ward was trying to keep his face calm and tranquil, but he was failing again.  Cracking and cracking, more and more.  “That would only work if I cared about him.”

“He seems to care an awful lot about you.”

“His mistake.  You know what it’s like.  A kid loves you, and you can lead them on with just the tiniest promise of loving him right back.  You can get ’em to feel anything.  Say anything.  Do anything.  Show up at the right place and the right time and he’s selling his soul to make you proud.  You want to break him?  Get some answers?  Go ahead.  He cracks easily if you pressure him right, push the right buttons.”

Skye looked away, but not before Steve caught the glint of shimmering wetness in her eyes.  On the recording, his voice tightly and hoarsely shouted, “What did you do to him?”

“Turned him into the man he is today.”  Ward flinched.  That alone spoke volumes of just how horrendous that process had been.  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with kids?  Teach them to be who they’re meant to be?  Your dad taught you how to be a soldier, and he wasn’t even there to do it.  That’s how powerful parents are.  And I taught him how to be a traitor.  Product of his environment.”

“Turn it off,” Natasha said to Tony, and Tony touched a space on the pad he held.  Natasha stepped closer to Ward, her face hard and her eyes icy.  There wasn’t much sympathy there, at least not to the untrained eye, but Steve had seen Natasha be truly vicious toward the world’s worst terrorists and tyrants.  This was restrained.  “You still want to throw your lot in with that?  With this man who would rather let us break you than get you out?”

Ward _was_ breaking.  They could all see it.  He was sweating, his bruised face glistening with a timid sheen of perspiration, and he seemed lost.  Uncertain.  A little unhinged.  He leaned back from the central console, glancing around at the Avengers like he could somehow find an answer among them.  Skye’s desire to go to him was practically a tangible force, her eyes back on him and wide with concern.  “He couldn’t come for me.  He told me he couldn’t.  Told me I needed to…  That he’d…”  He grimaced.  “This is a lie.  You made this!”

“It’s not a lie,” Steve said.  “I was right there.  He said it to my face.  He used you to taunt me.”

Unraveling, Ward breathed heavily with wide, wondering eyes and turned back to Skye and Coulson.  This seemed to be the culmination, maybe of years of abuse and torment.  Perhaps it was only a coincidence that it was happening here and now.  Perhaps it was because this was the one thing Ward couldn’t simply _do_.  He’d killed and hurt and been hurt himself for Garrett, but kidnapping a little girl that he’d rescued himself from the grip of evil…  That was somehow too much.  Like that was so inherently _wrong_ that _years_ of wrongness were suddenly undeniable and unbearable.  Whatever the reason, Steve was infinitely glad and even more relieved that the cracks were splitting wide and long, and Ward’s defenses were crumbling away now.

Tony stepped closer, not quite threatening but hardly accepting, either.  “Tell us where they took Pepper.  Tell us why.  Where’s Sarah?”

Ward grimaced, bracing his arms against the central console and closing his eyes.  The weight of everything – of what had been done to him and what he’d done in return – was visibly crushing him.  Again Skye seemed to want to go to him, but Steve could see that Coulson had a hand on her arm.  An endless moment of waiting, of hoping and praying, elapsed.  Then Ward deflated, closing his eyes and shaking his head.  “I don’t know,” he finally said.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Clint demanded angrily.

Ward lifted his gaze and settled it on the archer.  “I split up from Garrett right after we took them.  I was supposed to drive the car that had been seen on the news down south, to lead you off his scent for a while.  I don’t know where he took them or what he did with them.”

 _No._   Steve could hardly breathe.  This couldn’t be happening.  They couldn’t have gotten Ward to talk only to discover that _he didn’t know anything._   Pain and panic came back quickly, tight in his belly, and it was only Natasha’s steadying hand that kept him still, upright, grounded.  “Are you lying to us?” Tony snapped, not nearly as restrained.  No one possessed the strength to stop him.  “If you’re lying to us–”

“I’m not,” Ward said wearily.  “Garrett didn’t tell me.  I was supposed to get captured.  He didn’t want to risk the chance of–”

“You talking?” May said.  Ward nodded.  “Then this could all be another twist in this plot.”

“It’s not,” he returned.

Clint looked furious.  “I can’t believe it.  Where does this leave us?”

Tony closed his eyes and sagged.  He turned away, shuddering, and then he flung the pad in his hand across the room where it smashed into a wall and exploded all over the floor.  “Nowhere,” he seethed through gritted teeth.  He was crumbling, too, breaking.  Falling apart again.  _“Nowhere._ ”  Clint grabbed his shoulder and pulled him against him, tightening his grip as Tony shook with silent anguish.

Coulson wasn’t ready to admit defeat.  “Why?”  He turned blazing eyes on his former specialist.  “What does Garrett want with them?”

Ward looked torn, his haggard face pale and pained.  He shifted his weight, releasing a slow breath.  “Potts he wants for Extremis.”

Skye said, “To fix Centipede?”

Ward sadly fixed his gaze on her.  “More than just to fix Centipede.”  He heaved another sigh, like he was debating on whether or not he should continue.  Considering Earth’s mightiest heroes were about a hair’s breadth away from taking their depression and frustration out on him, he wisely chose to explain.  “The Deathlok program didn’t start with Peterson.  Cybertek’s been working on the implants for years, ever since…  John stepped on IED in Sarajevo in 1990.”

“I know that,” Coulson said.  “His wounds weren’t serious.”

Ward shook his head.  “That was SHIELD’s story.  The truth is he called for extraction repeatedly, and all of his calls were ignored.”  Natasha shared a surprised look with Clint.  As did May and Coulson.  That didn’t sound like SHIELD.  Perhaps SHIELD’s integrity and motives were sometimes suspect, but they took care of their own.  Injured agents were rescued.  There was danger inherent with the job, but SHIELD did its best to minimize it and protect their operatives out in the field.  “SHIELD made excuses about the stability of the situation, about not wanting to reveal its role out of concern that it would exacerbate the tensions in the region…  It didn’t matter.  He was severely wounded, and they left him to die.”

Absolutely flabbergasted, Coulson shook his head.  It was more than obvious he didn’t believe (or want to believe) Ward’s story.  “SHIELD has no record of this.”

“SHIELD didn’t treat him,” Ward tightly replied.  “He ended up in the hands of Cybertek.  They were able to save his life but only through the use of cybernetic implants.  Project: Deathlok.”

That hung over the room for a moment.  “You’re saying that Garrett was the first Deathlok?” Skye said, shocked.

Ward nodded.  “He had to be or he would have died.  This was before I’d met him.  The implants kept him alive, made him stronger and faster, but they’re poisoning him now, failing…  His only hope is stabilizing Centipede.”

“What about the soldiers?” Clint asked.  “What about what you said to Cap before, about things building in the shadows?  What was that?”

Again Ward looked hesitant, and that more than anything signaled to Steve that something every bit as deep and dark as Garrett had threatened was happening.  However, before the other man could speak, there was a rumble that quickly grew louder and closer.  The Bus vibrated around them, a low, humming rattle that made the lights dim and the floor shake beneath their feet.  Steve whirled as everything flickered.  “What the hell?” Coulson asked, his face tightening in anger and dismay.  He pulled away from May and Skye and raced to the intercom on the wall.  “Fitz!  What’s going on?”

A moment passed before the young engineer responded, the thick brogue loud despite the rattling.  “I don’t know, sir!  We’re detecting a large electrical field directly north of the Bus!”

Natasha figured it out before the rest of them.  “It’s Thor.”

Renewed hope jolted through Steve, and both he and Tony were charging out of the room at once, limping but racing and clambering to get to the back of the plane.  Steve vaguely heard Coulson ordering Fitz to open the rear ramp and for May and Skye to stay with Ward.  His heart was pounding again, pounding with agonizing hope, and he could see from Tony’s desperate eyes and pale face that his was as well.  They reached the back of the plane where a SHIELD SUV and a red convertible were parked.  The rear doors of the jet were parting with a mechanical whine.  It wasn’t terribly easy to take the steps, but Steve did it fast and graceful enough that someone less acquainted with him would never have realized he was struggling.  When he hit the deck plating below, the back of the Bus had opened enough to reveal Thor.

The God of Thunder swiftly came inside, red cloak fluttering with a hot burst of wind, Mjölnir clenched in his right hand.  He walked with the poise and power he always did.  “Steve,” he called in greeting.  His face opened in concern when he saw how badly hurt Steve was.  “What has befallen you?  You’re wounded.”

It was rude of him to ignore his friend’s concern, but he found he couldn’t stop himself.  He grabbed Thor’s arm with his good hand, knowing his grip was fierce and probably almost painful but again unable to restrain it.  “Did you learn anything?  Do you know where they are?”

Thor cast his eyes about almost suspiciously, grasping Tony and pulling him closer.  Natasha and Clint had reached them, Coulson as well though the agent stayed back as the Avengers assembled in the back of his Bus.  Thor lowered his voice.  He was hesitating.  And he seemed greatly troubled.  _Oh, God._   “Thor, talk,” Tony said.  His voice was rough and strained.  “I can’t take any more.  Please.”

Thor sighed.  “Heimdall was able to locate Sarah and Pepper.  I…  I do not know what is happening, but whatever it is, we face a threat unlike any we have faced before.”

Clint was exasperated.  “What?  What?”

Thor’s blue eyes narrowed angrily.  “They are located in some place in a massive desert in Africa.”

Natasha’s face crinkled in concern and confusion.  “Desert?”

 _An installation in the desert._   Steve blanched.  _No._   In some sick way, it made sense.  “It’s the Sandbox, isn’t it?  They’ve been taken to the Sandbox.”

Thor shook his head.  “Yes, that is what Heimdall called it.  What is this place?”

“It’s SHIELD,” Steve said lowly.  His voice was practically a growl, and his heart was pounding in fury.  “SHIELD has them.”

* * *

After that, things happened, and they happened fast.  By the time the Avengers had overcome their shock and rage and the deep, burning sense of betrayal that was biting through them for the second time in two days, everything was utterly falling apart.  The command center of the Bus was in controlled chaos, the monitors that had been blandly displaying the inside of the interrogation room now flooded with images of what looked like all-out war.  It took Steve a moment to realize what it was he was seeing.  “What’s this?” he asked in tightly controlled dread.

Coulson had returned to the room at May’s tight summons a few minutes prior, and he was watching with horror etched into his face.  “It’s the Triskelion.”

It _was_ the Triskelion.  The Triskelion was _burning_ , under attack from within and from the SHIELD helicarrier raining hellfire down on it.  Smoke was rising from the towers.  Quinjets were scrambling in the flight yard, trying to get off the ground and defend the building from the bombardment, but it was clearly a losing battle.  The sheer amount of destruction was appalling.  Everywhere people were screaming, fleeing the attack.  “Holy hell…” Clint whispered.  He was white, his eyes wide as he glanced at Coulson.  “Phil, what’s happening?”

Skye was tapping furiously at the center console.  “We received this message a few minutes ago.  It’s being broadcast on all SHIELD frequencies.”

A few lines of text appeared on one of the monitors.  Steve read them aloud.  “Out of the Shadows.  Into the Light.  HYDRA.”  For a moment, he couldn’t make sense of that.  It simply didn’t sink into his brain, the words he’d just spoken.  He stared blankly at them, reading them again and again in the tense silence that followed.   This couldn’t be what it seemed like it was, could it?  _HYDRA.  It’s not possible._   He felt the team’s eyes on him, watching him, trying to determine from his reaction if this could even remotely be true.  He had no answers to give.  “HYDRA died with the Red Skull.”

“They don’t look too dead to me,” Tony remarked breathlessly.  He was watching the destruction like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.  “Suddenly all the bad feelings I’ve had about SHIELD since forever are making disturbing sense.  You want to see the actual bad guys, Clint?  Here they are.”

Clint had nothing to say, shocked into utter silence as the organization to which he’d dedicated his life was apparently ripped apart right in front of his very eyes.  Thor was less stricken.  “You.”  The demigod turned to Ward, where he was standing at gunpoint.  May had her weapon aimed right at his temple.  Thor’s frustration was palpable.  “How deep does this go?”

Ward looked worried, like he hadn’t quite been aware of the extent of what was going to happen.  “Deep,” he answered grimly.

“How is this possible?” Natasha asked softly.

“HYDRA has to be inside SHIELD,” Bruce answered.  He’d joined them soon after Thor had returned.  He was calm, but his eyes betrayed just how worried he was beneath it.  “It has to be.  This explains a lot.  Why they stole samples from you, Steve.  How they ended up in the hands of the enemy.  They _were_ the enemy.”

“Not everyone,” Skye insisted with wild eyes.  “It can’t be everyone.  It can’t be.”  She glanced around, searching for confirmation.  It wasn’t forthcoming.  Simmons and Fitz just seemed alarmed beyond speech or thought or understanding.  Coulson was as well, although he was trying harder to hide it.  And the Avengers…  _SHIELD is HYDRA.  Somehow this happened.  Somehow…_

_I died for nothing._

Steve shook that realization away.  It didn’t matter now.  If HYDRA was back, however that had happened, he had to stop them.  They had Sarah.  They had Pepper.  And obviously they were taking SHIELD over from the inside.  _We have to stop them._   “Ward, how many are HYDRA?” he asked, turning from the display to face the other man.  Ward hesitated again, swallowing thickly.  Steve had no patience left.  “Ward, _how many?_ ”

“Seventy years’ worth,” he answered quietly.  “Secretary Pierce.  Agent Blake.  Sitwell.  Garrett.  The STRIKE Team.  The helicarrier crew.  Hundreds.”  Steve closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together hard enough that his jaw hurt.  Hot betrayal knifed through him, leaving him reeling and lost.  Ward was explaining more.  “HYDRA started forming inside SHIELD right after World War II.  The remains of the Red Skull’s old regime were integrated into SHIELD for strategic purposes, and it’s been sleeping ever since.  Dormant until the right time.”

“And that’s now,” Natasha said.  She was trying to seem composed, but Steve could tell she was as rattled as they all were, maybe even more so.  This was her world, and it was falling apart.  Ward nodded.  “Why?”

“I don’t know.  They didn’t tell me.”

There were so many questions racing through their heads and no time to ask them, let alone understand the full implications of the answers.  “Who’s running it?” Tony demanded.

Ward looked lost.  “I don’t know.”

“Garrett?” Clint questioned.

Ward winced.  “He’s high in the chain of command, but he’s not at the top.”

Thor’s control had been wearing from the moment he’d returned.  He looked about ready to smash something.  “Then who among you is?  Director Fury?”

Before Ward could answer, Skye shook her head.  The blood drained from her face, her capable fingers flying over the console again.  “No,” she said softly.  “Not Fury.  Look.”  They all returned their gazes to the displays only to see horrific reports coming in.  From the Hub.  From HQ in Times Square.  From the helicarrier.  “Oh, God,” Skye whispered.  “They killed him.”

“What?” Clint demanded.

“Look,” she implored again.  The screen was flooded with images of battle from all over SHIELD’s expansive global network.  Hidden HYDRA agents and operatives were coming out of the woodwork, fighting and killing and _exterminating._   Steve scrambled to digest the horrors coming at them.  Hill was reportedly missing.  Dozens of high-level agents were dead.  And Fury…  “Sitwell’s claiming he’s been murdered.  Assassinated.”

They were all silent a moment, struggling to accept what was happening.  The enormity of it.  For better or for worse, they had trusted Nick Fury.  They had _trusted_ SHIELD.  Some of them had given their lives to its cause, laboring for the betterment and protection of the world, sacrificing life and blood and years.  And apparently it had been for nothing.  _For a lie._

_SHIELD was HYDRA._

“We have to stop them,” Steve said.  “Right now.  If HYDRA’s trying to build an army of super soldiers and monsters with Centipede, we have to stop them.”

That seemed to ground everyone.  Suddenly there was a flurry of conversation.  “Agent Simmons and I have a rough antidote to Centipede,” Bruce declared, “at least enough of one to shut down anyone with the implant.”

“We’ve already started modifying weapons to deliver the anti-serum,” Fitz said.  “I’m not sure if it will be enough.”

It didn’t matter.  That was all they had.  And there was too much to face at once.  They needed to split up.  “Bruce, Nat, Clint, you guys get down to DC and stop that attack,” Steve ordered.  “If HYDRA’s in control of the helicarrier, they can destroy cities.  Kill thousands of people.  And they can get anywhere in the world.  We can’t let that happen.”

Bruce looked like he wanted to object, but he stopped himself.  “You want the Hulk to bring it down?”

Steve nodded firmly.  “If that’s what it takes.”

“Captain Rogers, if they find a way to stabilize Centipede, what we’ve developed isn’t going to stop anything,” Simmons said breathlessly.  “They’ll have the capacity to turn anyone anywhere into a soldier for their cause.”

“I know,” Steve said.  He glanced at Tony.  “Tony, Thor, and I are going to take the quinjet to the Sandbox and rescue Pepper.  Get her out of there before they can use her to fix Centipede.  Is that where Garrett is?”  He turned to Ward and skewered him with a sharp, demanding glare.  “Is it?”

“Yes,” Ward admitted grimly.

“Breaking in there isn’t going to be easy,” Clint reminded gravely.  “It’s one of SHIELD’s most secure installations, and you can bet they’re going to have reinforced it.  It’s buried in the Sahara.  And if Garrett’s there, they’ve probably got Deathlok guarding Pepper.  You’re going to have to deal with that.”

Steve sighed.  “Agent Simmons, I don’t want to put you in harm’s way, but if we can bring Deathlok down, can you get that implant out of him?”

Flustered, Simmons’ eyes shifted quickly from Steve to Fitz to Coulson and then back to Fitz again.  “I, um…  Well, yes, I think I can.  But I’m not cleared for field duty.”

“It’s the Avengers, Jemma,” Fitz reminded gently.  “They’ll protect you.  You’ll be alright.”

Simmons seemed relieved by that.  “It’s not so much my own life I worry about,” she said, “but I fear I’d be something of a liability.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said.  “Just keep your head down and follow directions.”  Simmons gulped and nodded.

“Can you perform the hack on Deathlok from here, Skye?” Steve asked.  She nodded.  “Alright.  That’s the plan.”

Clint glanced around, unsettled.  “So we can do this?”

There was no time to worry if they could.  HYDRA was moving, and they needed to move faster.  “Gear up,” Steve ordered.  The team scattered, racing with practiced precision to gather supplies and weaponry.  As he ran back to the infirmary to get his things, Steve cleared his mind.  He found that cool, collected place inside him, elusive before but now coming forward to embrace him whole-heartedly.  They had a plan.  They knew what they were facing.  And they had to go now.  They had to fight.  They had to do this.  _Sarah’s there in the Sandbox.  I can find her.  I have to find her.  Bring her home.  Stop HYDRA._   He was on autopilot, changing back into his uniform, ignoring his injuries and instead focusing on that hum of strength and power inside him.  He grabbed his shield, slid it onto his back, and then took a deep breath.  _Bring her home.  Stop HYDRA.  They’re not taking Sarah.  They’re not._

Within a matter of minutes, the group was gathered at the back ramp of the Bus.  Tony was decked out in his Iron Man armor, and though it was dented and worse for the wear, it was still exuding strength and power as well.  And Thor was grim and ready for battle, as he always was.  They flanked Steve as their small group went down the ramp to the quinjet parked outside.  Steve stopped and turned.  “Get it done.  And be careful,” he commanded the other half of the team.

“You, too,” Coulson returned.  He was resolute.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll stop them.”

Steve nodded.  Clint and Natasha were next to Coulson, watching them with stern eyes.  They’d faced enough dangerous fights together for Steve to see right through their stoicism.  And the sudden urge to go to Natasha, and for her to come to him, was potent, too strong to ignore almost.  She held his gaze, her eyes deeply blue in the light of the summer day beyond.  But all she offered was a slight nod.  Surprisingly, that was all he needed.

He turned to join Tony and Thor, but before he could step off the Bus and onto the tarmac, a call stopped him.  “Wait!  Captain Rogers!”  He stopped again.  It was Ward calling him.  May was at his side, her gun in her holster now but her face tight with anger.  She was escorting him down the ramp toward them.  Skye came to stand beside Coulson, Fitz with her.  Both of them were staring at Ward, their expressions filled with so much.  Hope.  Pain.  Grief.  A desire that he do something to make this right.

And that was exactly what he was trying to do.  Ward’s hands were bound in front of him now.  That mask he’d been wearing since the moment Steve had met him was slipping completely away.  Failing him.  He hesitated, wasting precious seconds as he looked over his shoulder at Skye again, but Steve forced himself to wait.  “Let me come with you.”

Honestly, he’d expected this.  “Why?”

“Because you’ll need help getting into the Sandbox.  If the Triskelion is SHIELD’s stronghold, that’s HYDRA’s,” Ward explained.  He looked among Tony and Thor, who were both scowling at him, clearly unimpressed by his efforts to change sides.  “I can get you past security checkpoints.  And it’s a maze in there.  You’ll need a guide.  You’ll stand a better chance if I come with you.”

“Why?  So you can stab us in the back at the opportune moment?” Tony snapped coldly.  “Betray us again just when we need you the most?  Lead us into another trap?  I don’t think so.  You’re one of them.”

Ward kept his cool.  Mostly.  He looked down, wincing wearily.  “I’ve done a lot of things for them, Mr. Stark.  I can’t even make myself feel sorry for that.  Not really.  If that’s not a sign that I’m… _screwed up,_ then I don’t know what is.”  He managed to make himself meet their eyes again.  “But through it all I am… _was_ loyal to John.  Not to them.  I don’t give a damn about HYDRA.  And I want answers.”

Steve drew a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm his own furious, racing heart.  Part of him wanted to do what Tony was doing: embrace his spite and pain and rage and refuse the offer.  Part of him thought Ward damn well deserved whatever happened to him now.  And his answers?  He didn’t _deserve_ anything, let alone answers.  But another part of him, the part that was so tightly tied to the core of what was right and good, still couldn’t condemn him.  If he was offering to help…  _Any chance to save Sarah is worth taking._   “Alright.”

Tony reacted predictably.  “Cap, no way.  No way in hell.  This bastard _stays here._ ”

“Steven,” Thor said softly, “we cannot trust him.”

“If it helps us find Pepper and Sarah, we have to take the risk,” Steve returned.  He grabbed the manacles about Ward’s wrist and held his other hand out for the key from May.  It hurt to do it.  Everything hurt, but he wasn’t going to let his pain turn him into something he wasn’t.  May gave him the key to the cuffs, and he unlocked them.  Still, he wasn’t a fool, either.  And he wasn’t going to trust the enemy of his enemy.  “You listen to me,” he said lowly, stepping close to Ward.  He narrowed his eyes, holding the other’s gaze unwaveringly.  “You have no idea how close I came to doing things I swore to myself I’d _never_ do.  _No idea._   So if you turn on us, there won’t be mercy.  Not again.  Understand?”

Ward lifted his chin slightly.  He nodded.  “I understand.”

“Can you fly us there?”

“Yes.”

Steve grabbed Ward by his shoulder and pushed him less than gently down the ramp.  “Then do it.”

Inside the quinjet, Simmons was already there, frazzled and trying her best not to show it as she puttered with her supplies and equipment.  Thor was surprisingly soft-spoken and gentle as he helped her stow her stuff.  Tony stood, malignantly glaring and silently threatening and _shaking_.  Steve could see how frayed he was, how terrified.  Having Ward here was unsettling him, crushing the last of his strength.  As Ward made his way into the cockpit and prepared the jet for flight, Steve took a moment to embrace his friend.  “It’ll be alright,” he promised.

Tony shuddered.  “You know that?  Because I don’t.”  He sniffed, almost shaking with the effort of holding himself together.  His eyes were wet.  “Pep always thinks I know everything, but I don’t.”

“I do,” Steve assured.  He took Tony by the back of his neck and tugged him into another hug.  The hard plates of Iron Man dug into his tender injuries, but he didn’t care, holding tighter.  “It’ll be alright.”

“SHIELD’s HYDRA, Steve.”  His voice was a strained whisper in Steve’s ear.  “HYDRA.  I know what that is, what that means.  My dad–”

“We’ll stop them.  Done it before.  Can do it again.”

“You had to die to stop them before.”

Steve grimaced.  He wasn’t going to think about that.  “I didn’t have anyone to stand with me then,” he finally replied after a moment spent gathering himself.  “I’ve got you now.  We’ve got each other.  And we’re going to save them.”  Tony pulled back.  He gave a weak and watery grin, probably ashamed at once again nearly losing his composure, but Steve only shook his head and dismissed his worry.  “When this over, we’re going to go home.  And go to Disney World, like you promised.  Sarah’ll ride the rides with you.  She loves doing that.  We’ll have a really good time.  I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Liar,” Tony teased weakly.

“And everything will be back to normal.  We’ll be a family, right?  All of us.”  He grinned, too.  “I’m never going on another date again.”

Tony choked out a laugh.  “I second that.”

Thor stood beside them.  “They are leaving.”

The Avengers turned to look out the cockpit of the quinjet.  The sleek, black form of the Bus was rising off the ground, its massive engines turned vertical to drive the aircraft upward.  It hovered a moment before climbing higher and higher.  They couldn’t see it anymore after a second or two.  Steve released a long breath, trying not to worry about the others.  Coulson and his team.  Bruce, Clint, and Natasha.  They’d be alright.  And they had their own mission.  “Let’s go,” he said.

Thor clasped him on the shoulder and moved aside so he could push his way into the cockpit.  Ward was powering the jet up, but he looked over as Steve slid into the co-pilot’s chair.  Steve held his gaze for a moment, doubting and hating, sternly and silently reminding the other man of his threat earlier rather than trying to trust.  Trust wasn’t coming, even as Ward got them off the ground and into the sky.  They were flying, and flying fast.  “You didn’t ask me why I took her,” Ward said after a long moment.  “Back there.  You didn’t ask me what they want with her.”

Steve gritted his teeth, staring out at the clouds streaking past them as they shot towards the Atlantic Ocean.  “Would you tell me the truth if I did?”  Ward said nothing to that.  Steve swallowed through a dry, aching throat.  “And it doesn’t matter.  I’m getting her back.  I’m taking her home.”

“It might matter,” Ward declared softly.  Steve turned to look at him.  “I don’t know why.  Not exactly.  But I do know this.”  He stared evenly at Steve.  “She wants Sarah.  She wants Sarah to get you.  Not to get the serum.  Not even to get _to_ you.  To get _you_.”  Ward’s eyes darkened, and he shook his head.  “And I don’t think she’s going to let either of you go.”

Steve’s blood ran cold.  He saw sky and ocean and clouds, and he felt like he was falling.


	9. Chapter 9

The Sandbox was literally that: a huge installation buried in the shifting sands of the Sahara Desert.  It was figuratively that, too.  A place where SHIELD researched and explored and investigated the world’s most mysterious and dangerous threats.  A place where SHIELD built and experimented and played with things with which it should have never played.

And, apparently, it was a stronghold for HYDRA.  _HYDRA._   Steve still couldn’t quite comprehend that.  SHIELD was HYDRA.  SHIELD had Sarah.  HYDRA had Sarah.

 _No._   This was when and where he’d get her back.  _Hang on, baby girl.  I’m here._

Ward set the jet down on a poorly marked landing strip nestled among the dunes.  They’d had to stop to refuel for the flight across the ocean, but other than that they’d made remarkable time.  Still, every second had been torturous, stretched long by terror, worry, and apprehension.  Tony had paced.  Thor had been rigid, eyes narrowed into a wrathful glower directed at their distant enemies.  Steve had gripped the arms of the copilot chair so hard there were finger-sized dents pressed into the plastic.  And Ward had been completely silent, concentrating on the task at hand.  That damnable mask was back, and Steve had wondered repeatedly if he wasn’t making a colossal mistake trusting him.

Now that they were down, there was a flurry of activity, like springs that had spent hours painfully coiled and compressed were finally surging forward.  Steve made himself wait for Ward to power everything down and switch the instruments off; as much as he wanted to act, he wanted their supposed ally to know he was surrounded.  So he let Ward stand and exit the cockpit first, making sure the other man went right into Tony and Thor’s imposing presences.  “How should we do this?” Tony asked, reaching for his helmet.

“A direct attack,” Thor advocated.  His patience was too worn for anything else in all likelihood.

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”  Ward’s voice was matter-of-fact, nonchalant, like he _wasn’t_ their prisoner and free on their good graces.  Three pairs of furious eyes turned to him.  And one pair of frightened ones.  Simmons had been quiet and afraid for the entirety of the flight, shocked into a stupor it seemed by her current company.  But her fear dissolved into anger, as well.  And hurt.  And Ward saw it.  His hard face fractured again, fractured in genuine shame, and he looked away like it was painful to see her.  He sighed.  “The Sandbox is heavily fortified.  There’s no way you can get in without breaking in, and that would alert security.  They’d be on you before you could get past the lobby.”

“We’re the Avengers,” Tony snapped.  His glare was hot, indignant, boiling with desperation.

“Yeah, you are,” Ward agreed, his voice not without a hard edge, “and you’ll waste time and effort trying to bust their defenses, and meanwhile they’re going to be fortifying them more.  There’s only one way in, and you better believe they can lock it up.”

Steve didn’t want to agree, but the tactician in him knew Ward was right.  The Sandbox was impenetrable through attack.  Deeply buried as it was, breaching it was going to be a challenge, even with Thor’s immense power and Iron Man’s arsenal.  Besieging it seemed completely unwise.  They needed a trick, some sort of ploy, a way to get in and attack from the inside.  A Trojan horse.  He looked at Ward.  “What did you have in mind?”

A few minutes later he was handing Tony his shield before unclasping his helmet and setting it on the bench of the quinjet.  Thor came behind him, bearing magnetic cuffs.  “For the record,” Tony said tightly, “this is a _really bad_ idea.  You’ve had bad ones in the past, but _this_?  A new level of complete stupidity.”

With some effort, Steve put his hands behind his back and glanced over his shoulder at Thor.  The demigod was reluctant, and with good reason, because Tony was absolutely, undeniably, _aggravatingly_ right.  “I don’t see another way.  Let Ward take me in.  We can shut down their defenses, at least the ones around the entrance.  Then you guys follow.”

 _“Let_ Ward take you in,” Tony repeated, his eyes wide and exasperated like he couldn’t believe he was the only one seeing exactly how _ludicrous_ that was.  He stepped closer to his teammates, darting a suspicious glance to Ward where he was standing at the end of the quinjet’s lowered ramp waiting for his “prisoner”.  “Ward.  The monster who kidnapped your daughter.”  Steve winced.  “You can’t trust him!  If he betrays you, we’ll need to rescue you on top of Pepper and Sarah.  That’s if he doesn’t just kill you.  Oh, wait, this is freaking HYDRA.  They’re _not_ going to kill their arch nemesis.  They’ll probably torture you and _then_ kill you.”

“Steve,” Thor began.  His voice was surprisingly soft and restrained given their situation.  “Tony is right.  This is not wise.” 

“We can’t afford to waste time with an assault,” Steve returned.  His patience was worn so badly.  He could hardly keep still.  “Pepper and Sarah can’t wait.  The rest of the team can’t wait.  We need to shut this down.”  He forced a comforting, confident smile to his face.  Bravado in his voice.  “It’s alright.  I can break the cuffs.”  At least, he thought he could.  And the ploy would look convincing enough, with him already beaten up as he was.  “And I’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, and I said it before.  That ended with you flying a plane into the Artic!” Tony hissed, pained and irritated.

Steve put his wrists together, undaunted.  “Come on.”

Thor still hesitated a moment more, sharing a repulsed look with Tony.  And it was Tony’s tense, unhappy nod that made him finally lock the manacles around Steve’s wrists.  He was gentle about it, but it still hurt Steve to move his arm like this and keep it there with the way it was fractured.  The cuffs were reinforced, the sort made to deal with more than the average thug.  Steve tested them; they were strong, but he did think he could break them if he needed to.  He prayed to God he wouldn’t need to.  He prayed this wasn’t a monumental mistake.  Having a less than trustworthy former enemy lead him bound into the stronghold of completely untrustworthy former enemies.  _Madness._ Tony grabbed his shoulders.  “You listen to me,” he said.  His eyes were dark with fear.  “This goes south, we are coming to get you out.”  He hugged Steve, hugged him hard, and Steve grimaced and closed his eyes.  Tony sniffed and pulled away.  “Go.”

Steve forced himself to take a deep breath.  Ward was waiting for him.  They’d given the SHIELD agent a gun but no rounds.  Those were tucked into the pockets of Steve’s uniform.  It was stupid and impractical; Ward would need ammunition to fight if it came to it, and if Ward turned on him, having the bullets in Steve’s pockets instead of his was hardly an impediment.  But it made him feel like he had control at any rate.  He walked down the ramp.  “Let’s do this.”

The desert around them was one endless, hilly stretch of sand.  Steve grimaced; the heat alone was stifling, and he had no idea where they were going.  The other Avengers stayed back in the jet, hopefully not alerting anyone as to their presence.  Ward put on a good show, grabbing Steve by the crook of his elbow and shoving him forward across the sand.  At least it wasn’t his broken arm.  Steve gritted his teeth and forced himself to be pliant as they walked.  He exaggerated his limp, bowed his head, kept his shoulders slumped.  Played his part.  Ward did the same.  He didn’t speak, his face affixed into a scowl, his empty gun clenched in his hand.  They reached a little ridge in the sand, which Steve quickly realized wasn’t a ridge at all.  Ward brushed the sand aside with his foot.  There was a small control panel there, and he stepped on a large, black space.  Steve gritted his teeth as the sand vibrated around them.  “You stay on our side,” he said quietly.  “You hear me?”

“I want answers,” Ward said as two large doors spread apart before them, dumping sand down between them.  “I want answers from him.”  Steve didn’t need to ask to know to whom Ward was referring.  _Garrett._   “I’ll do what I need to to get them.”

That wasn’t exactly the assurance for which Steve was looking, but it was probably the best he was going to get.  Ward’s eyes were narrowed and dark and hateful.  He grabbed Steve’s arm tightly and shoved him roughly down the steps that had been revealed.  Steve stumbled on his bad leg (that actually wasn’t for show) and nearly fell.  Ward snatched his arm and steadied him, though Steve didn’t know if it was because he was keeping up the act that Captain America was his prisoner or because he was trying to do Steve a favor and keep him from face-planting on the stairs.  Either way, as they walked down into the Sandbox, he was grateful.  He was less grateful, though, when the doors sealed and locked again behind them.

A slew of guards dressed in block ops gear were there, and rifles and guns immediately were aimed at them.  Ward holstered his gun.  “Easy.  Coming with a prisoner.”

One of the soldiers glared at him as he came out from behind the central security console.  Steve knew him.  Brock Rumlow, commander of the STRIKE Team and a genuinely cruel guy.  Steve had worked with the STRIKE Team a few times over the last few years, and Rumlow had continually proven himself to be overly capable and unrelenting and completely ruthless.  It was no surprise he was HYDRA.  “A prisoner, huh.  That’s Captain America,” he said.

“Astute.”  Ward’s glare was cutting, too.  “I’m bringing him to Garrett.”  His voice held a firm, threatening note, like he was challenging the others to stop him.  To take his prize.  “Where is he?”

“Nobody goes through us,” Rumlow tightly responded.  His eyes were suspicious, flicking between Steve and his captor.  “Not even you.”

If Ward had been anticipating this, it wasn’t obvious.  That perfect poker face was back, his eyes hard as he stared down Rumlow.  “Get out of my way,” he seethed.  “He’s my prisoner, and I’m bringing him in.”

“Trying to make daddy proud, huh,” Rumlow baited.  Ward said nothing, did nothing.  The two agents stared at each other, a silent war of wills and egos, and Steve wished they could have their pathetic show of posturing at someone else’s expense.  Not Sarah’s.  Every second they _wasted_ here was unbearable.  He forced himself to be patient, to wait until the right moment.  And the right moment was definitely not with a slew of guns pointed right at him.  Rumlow grunted.  “Well, we’ll see what he has to say.”

Ward’s jaw tightened.  “You want to waste his time like that?  Today of all days?”

“To see you brought down, I’d do _anything_ ,” Rumlow responded haughtily.  “Call him up.”  One of the agents behind Rumlow scrambled to do that, working with a computer terminal to summon Garrett.  Rumlow glared smugly at Steve.  “And you get on your knees.”  Steve lifted his chin defiantly.  Anger shone in Rumlow’s eyes.  “Right now, Rogers, or I’ll make you.”

“No, he’s _my_ prisoner,” Ward snapped forcefully.  For emphasis, he kicked at Steve’s weak leg.  Steve went down, not having to fake the pain at least.  His heart was thundering, and he forced himself not to fight when Ward’s hand grasped the back of his neck and pushed him to the floor.  This had better be plan of Ward’s plan because kneeling like this at the mercy of him and the STRIKE Team, so close to Sarah but unable to _fight_ …  It was torture.

“Why the frown, Cap?” Rumlow said, keeping his handgun aimed right at Steve’s forehead.  He gave a mock show of sympathy.  “It’s hard to be here like this.  With your daughter right within your reach.  You probably let Ward take you, didn’t you?  Just to have a chance to be with her again.  Pathetic.”  The urge to simply break the cuffs and belt Rumlow was almost uncontainable.  Almost.  “Must really burn you that despite everything, despite you sacrificing yourself, we win in the end.  And your legacy belongs to us.”

That was too much.  He just couldn’t listen to it anymore.  His rage and terror shot over him like lightning, and he was charging, barreling forward and ramming into Rumlow.  The agent hadn’t been prepared for the attack and he went down in a heap.  Without thinking, Steve wrenched his hands apart, and the cuffs almost gave.  Another attempt and he’d–

“Don’t,” Ward warned coolly.  Steve felt the press of a gun to his temple.  He leaned back and looked.  It wasn’t the gun they’d given him.  The unloaded gun.  No, this was Rumlow’s, and his finger was on the trigger.

Steve went cold with fear one second and hot with anger the next.  “You lying son of a…”  He couldn’t make himself finish.  He should have listened to Tony and Thor.  And the voice of reason inside his head.  What would it take for him to learn to _stop trusting people?_   He’d lost Sarah because he’d trusted.  And now…

Rumlow shoved him back.  The first punch knocked him off guard.  The second dropped him to the floor.  He was already so banged up and battered that he didn’t have the strength simply to shake it off like he normally would.  And he was so emotionally brutalized that he didn’t care.  “I told you I want answers,” Ward said coldly.  Steve struggled to raise his body, rigid with rage.  He could break the cuffs, but with that gun right in his face, Ward would kill him before he could fight.  How could he have been so wrong about this man?  There was _nothing_ there worth saving.  Nothing that could be redeemed.  Nothing to bring back to the right side of the line.  _Nothing._   “And that I’ll do whatever I need to to get them, including selling you out.”  He backhanded Steve hard, but Steve was _harder_ , and his head hardly moved even with the force of the blow.  Ward seemed surprised and shoved the gun into his face.

“Well, well,” came Garrett’s voice behind the ruckus.  “Look what the cat dragged in.”  Ward turned to face his mentor.  Garrett seemed a tad haggard, a tad paler, than he’d been just a few hours ago.  What was it Ward had said?  The implants from the Deathlok project truly were killing him.

And, speak of the devil, Deathlok was there with him, as cold and emotionless as before.  Steve couldn’t help but glare at him because this seriously complicated matters.  Maybe he’d have been able to escape seconds before, even with the guns on him and as outnumbered as he was.  It would have been dangerous and desperate, hobbled and without his shield, but he could have done it.  Now that was impossible.  His heart sank.  And Garrett saw it in his eyes.  A huge smile broke out on his face.  “You just saved me the trouble of having to go find him.  Nice catch, kid.”

Ward smiled thinly, keeping his gun jabbed right into Steve’s temple.  “The other Avengers are out in the quinjet.  Stark and the Asgardian.”

“Go,” Garrett said to Rumlow.  “Tell them we’ll put a bullet in Rogers’ brain if they don’t surrender.  That’ll get ’em cooperating.”  Rumlow sneered in anticipation before gesturing to his men to move out.  Only Garrett, Deathlok, Ward, and his prisoner remained after that.  Garrett never moved his eyes from Steve, ridiculously pleased and ridiculously full of himself.  “Played ya, Cap.  Did you actually think you could turn him after all the years I’ve had him?”

“You’re a bastard,” Steve seethed, hating Garrett and Ward and hating _himself_ most of all.

“Probably,” Garrett conceded.  “And you’re a fool for ever thinking you could trust anyone.  This was inevitable.  Even when he had an unfortunate attack of conscience and delivered that baby to Fury instead of me, we knew we’d get her back.  SHIELD has never been SHIELD.  _Never._ ”  He laughed.  “Hail, HYDRA.”  At that moment, Steve didn’t care if he got shot.  Didn’t care if he got killed.  He was going to fight, push his way through, _find Sarah…_   Garrett gestured at Deathlok.  “Take him down.”

“No.”  Ward’s voice was quiet, low.  Steve looked up at him to find the other man’s eyes glazed with emotion again.  So much.  The gun swung up and pointed at Garrett.  “ _No._   He’s my prisoner.  You want him, you have to tell me the truth.”

Garrett didn’t flinch, although a hint of shock briefly ghosted across his features.  He backed up, but it seemed a token thing.  “Whoa, kid.  Whoa.  What brought this on?”

“You know what brought it on,” Ward seethed.  “I want the truth.”

Garrett’s eyes flashed with something.  Steve could almost see that look, that angry, threatening hatred that shone for a moment, filling so many more moments before it.  Dominating every interaction Garrett had had with Ward in the years they’d been together.  A twisted thing that Ward saw (maybe hoped) was respect or affection or even love but was really just raw, unadulterated power.  “What truth?”

Ward’s eyes narrowed.  “Why’d you take me?  Why bring me into SHIELD?”

Garrett scowled.  Deathlok made to advance on Ward, eliminate the threat to his master, but Garrett shot his arm out in front of the cyborg and stopped him.  “What’re you talking about?”

So this was his endgame.  It wasn’t about betraying them.  It wasn’t about helping them, either.  It really was all about getting his answers, like that hint of the truth they’d shone Ward back on the Bus had sliced open his heart and now he was bleeding such doubt.  “Why’d you take me?  Huh?  Why train me?  Why do all this?  Just to get a weapon?  Another damn _asset_ for HYDRA?”

Garrett tried to smile.  “C’mon, kid.  You know me better than that.”

The gun wavered slightly.  “No, I don’t.  I don’t know _anything_ about you.  At least, nothing that I trust.  Not anymore.”

“Are you _really_ going to let them make you doubt yourself?  Really.  You’re going to let Captain America and his band of righteous freaks make you question your place in this world.”

Ward shook his head.  “And where’s that, John?”

Exasperated as though the answer should be obvious, Garrett opened his arms and gasped a little incredulous laugh.  “Right here.  Right with me.  You and me together, isn’t it?  I teach you how to be a man, and you do what needs to be done.”

“What _you_ want,” Ward corrected.  “It’s never been anything other than that!”  It was spilling out now.  Ward’s control slipped, overstretched and strained by seeing reality maybe for the first time since he’d been an abused, angry kid given a chance to be a SHIELD agent.  Steve wanted to do something, to attack Garrett and get the gun from Ward and if they wanted to fight about this, let them.  But he didn’t dare, not with Deathlok glaring at him and watching his every move.  “I serve you like some damn slave!  Follow orders.  Take the hits.  Get you what you want, what you need.  Betray my team, _my friends_ –”

“You know better than to _make_ friends.  How many times have I told you to never let it in?  But it’s her, isn’t it.  That damn hacker girl.”

“Leave her out of this!”

“Or what?” Garrett snapped.  “This is the world.  This is what we’ve been working for.  You know better than anyone what’s at stake here.  What I need.  What it means to me to get it!”

“Back there,” Ward gasped, “when they had us, when they were _torturing me_ , you never even tried to stop it.  You _told_ them to take me.  Told them _I_ was the one they wanted.  You’re a goddamn liar, John.  I shoulda realized right then that that’s all I was good for.  _Getting hit._ ”

“Grant–”

 _“Shut up!”_   Ward’s shout was hoarse, ragged, tinged with pain and fear and insanity.  The abused kid standing up at long last to his abuser.  This twisted, perverted father-son relationship was coming to a head right before Steve’s alarmed eyes.  Garrett took a step forward, and Ward lifted the gun, readjusting his grip and clenching his jaw.  “You tell me the truth.  Right here and right now.  Tell me it wasn’t all a lie.  Tell me you care about me like he cares about her!”  Steve jerked in surprise when the gun came back to him.  It took him a moment to realize Ward was talking about him, him and his love and devotion for Sarah.  The gun shook and then shifted sharply back to Garrett.  Ward was shaking, too.  “Tell me you’d do anything to save me.”

The room was silent, still.  Waiting, it seemed, for Garrett to give his answer.  Steve half expected him to lie, to spout off some cruel, manipulative nonsense that would chain Ward to him just as he probably had countless times in the past.  To use Ward’s vulnerability against him, play him with false affection.  But he didn’t.  Garrett simply was too smug, too evil, to hide it any longer.  “I’ll tell you one thing, Grant.”  Ward’s face was covered in sweat, all of his cool control shattering completely as he realized the answer he wanted wasn’t coming.  “I was right.  You’re weak and pathetic, and if you get pressured right, you break.”  Garrett sneered.  “Just like a traitor.”

That was it.  Ward pulled the trigger and shot Garrett point blank in the chest.  And Steve moved.  He put all of his strength into it, finally wrenching the cuffs apart and charging Deathlok.  He rammed him, hoping to knock him down and aside long enough to get to the control console behind them and force open the doors.  But Deathlok had been prepared for his attack, grabbing his ankle as he scrambled to the console and wrenching him back.  Steve kicked at his face, smashing hard enough to crack his neck to the side.  Still, it wasn’t enough to stop him, and he yanked Steve across the floor.  Steve managed to free himself, but now the cyborg was between him and any chance of getting the doors open or contacting the others.  And he hardly had a chance to even realize that because Deathlok tackled him.

He went down hard, crushed under the weight of his opponent.  His head smacked the unforgiving concrete, and he was dazed for a costly second while Deathlok pinned him.  The cyborg got a hand around his neck and squeezed, tight enough to crush his windpipe.  Steve squirmed, struggled, tried to fight back but he was already so battered that any hope of besting Deathlok was dying right along with him.  He heard a gun going off, saw Ward _shooting at the cyborg_ , coming at them and _attacking._ Deathlok swung an arm out at him, hitting the SHIELD specialist right across the midriff with enough force to send him flying haphazardly into the console.  Inexplicably energy – the need to _fight_ – surged through Steve, and with a cry he got his knee between Deathlok and himself.  He pushed back with everything he had, shoving the punishing weight up and away.  He rolled, sucking in a glorious breath through a burning throat, and scrambled to his feet.

Deathlok was right back on him, throwing blows vicious enough to drive him back across the room and into the wall.  One particularly powerful punch smashed the concrete behind him, and Steve ducked, dodging sluggishly.  There was no way he could win this.  Not alone.  He hadn’t been able to before, when he hadn’t already been injured.  He had to get through to Peterson.  He had to try.  “Mike!” he cried, limping as fast as he could to the left.  He fell into a defensive stance at the absolute last second, barely blocking another killing blow aimed at his chest.  Deathlok’s red eyes were focused, deadly, _uncaring._   “Mike!  Stop!  Stop!  We want to help you!”  Nothing.  A punch caught Steve right across the face, spinning him through the air.  He hit the wall again with a wicked thud, the air rushing from his lungs.  He tasted blood, felt tears burn his eyes, and his muscles went uselessly taut with pain and then equally uselessly lax with shock.

Deathlok stalked over to him, reached down, and grabbed him by the front of his suit.  Steve cried out as he was lifted from the floor and raised high over the cyborg’s head.  He kicked and fought, but it didn’t matter.  Deathlok reared back his other fist and prepared to crush Steve’s chest.

The distinctive sound of repulsors firing cut through the thunder of Steve’s pulse in his head, and abruptly he was falling.  He hit the unforgiving floor roughly, jostling injures new and old, but he gathered his wits and glanced up in time to see Iron Man tackle the cyborg.  Tony yelled in frustration, bringing Deathlok down with a blast of weapons and strength.  Shock left Steve reeling but then firm hands took his arms and lifted him to his feet.

“Are you hurt?” Thor gasped worriedly.  Steve fought to catch his breath but swallowed down the unpleasantness of blood and bile.  He shook his head.  “We must discuss your planning next time, my friend.”  Thor handed Steve his shield.  Then he lifted Mjölnir in his other hand and joined Tony.

Steve couldn’t make sense of this for a moment, watching his two friends battle Deathlok in complete stupefaction, before he turned and saw Ward standing behind the console.  Ward had opened the doors and summoned the Avengers.  The SHIELD agent looked hurt, blood covering his temple from a new, nasty gash, but he held Steve’s gaze for a moment.  He didn’t nod in understanding, didn’t apologize.  He said nothing.  But he hadn’t run, even though Garrett was gone.  He was there.  He was helping.  “Get Simmons!” Steve ordered, and Ward limped from behind the console to sprint to the stairs.

Steve gripped the straps of his shield tighter and rushed to join Tony and Thor.  The fleeting desire to run deeper into the Sandbox – _find Sarah_ – was sharp and acidic, but he couldn’t.  He launched himself into the fray.  With three Avengers against him, Deathlok was floundering.  Thor in particular was much stronger than him, and Deathlok’s violent strikes that had crushed Tony’s suit and fractured Steve’s bones hardly slowed the God of Thunder.  It took only a matter of minutes for them to bring him down.

Thor threw himself on top of Deathlok’s squirming torso, grabbing Peterson’s arms and holding them firmly but as gently as he could behind his back as he lay prone beneath them.  Deathlok was struggling maniacally, doing anything and everything to try and dislodge Thor, but he wasn’t going to be able to.  Especially not with Captain America there as well, throwing his own impressive weight and strength over his lower body.  “Tony!” Steve gasped, struggling to hold on.

“On it,” Tony said, crouching beside his two friends.  He knew what he was doing this time, finding hidden releases for the impenetrable plating on Deathlok’s back.  The port was easy enough to spot, not that Steve could do anything more than glance at it with sweat burning his eyes and the effort of restraining Deathlok draining him.  “Hold him!  Steady now!  You guys got this?”

“Yes!” Steve gasped.

Thor nodded, lips pulled back from his teeth in effort.  “Aye.”

“Alright!”  Tony jacked into the port and deployed his signal.  Steve thought the next thirty seconds were among the longest in his life.  His muscles ached miserably with the strain of keeping Deathlok immobile, but he forced himself to stay still, to hang on.  “I’m in.  Fifteen seconds.”  Thor grunted, elbowed in the face, but he, too, held tight.  Deathlok bucked and writhed desperately.  “It’s getting jostled too much!  The connection’s dying!”

“I am trying!” Thor yelled in irritation and frustration, pushing the cyborg down into the floor more roughly.  His voice turned sarcastic.  “Would you care to switch places?”

“Nope.  No, we got this.  We’re good.”  Tony pinned Deathlok’s head and shoulders firmly, his gauntlet connected to the port via a short metallic probe.  Steve practically sat on Peterson’s legs, too breathless to say anything.  “There.  Five seconds.  Where’s Simmons?”

“Right here,” came a soft, scared voice.  Steve opened eyes he’d squeezed shut to see Simmons rushing across the room, her arms full of supplies.  Ward was with her, bearing an oxygen tank, a few cases, and a lost look on his face, like he didn’t know where he belonged.  Honestly, Steve didn’t know either, but now wasn’t the time to ask or worry.  He sure as heck wasn’t going to mention Ward’s most recent betrayal to the others.  He wasn’t even sure if that hadn’t all been part of his plan.

He’d been lost enough in his thoughts to be a bit taken aback when Peterson abruptly stilled beneath him, going from rigid and struggling to limp and pliant in a breath.  “There,” Tony said, retracting the probe.  “There.  Skye, you in?”  Steve wasn’t on comms so he couldn’t hear the response, but Iron Man stood and Simmons moved in quickly with her supplies.  Tony turned to Ward.  “Where’s Pepper?”

“What about Rumlow?” Steve asked, getting to his feet.

“Dropped him,” Tony answered quickly, “but not before he radioed in for help.”

Ward glanced among him, Tony, and Thor.  He swallowed thickly.  “Then we need to move fast,” he replied.

“Thor, stay with Jemma,” Steve ordered.  “She’s going to need help.  And if he wakes up–”

“You may need me more!”  Thor wasn’t at all pleased.  “Who knows what sort of demons lay in wait deeper inside this place?  Steve!”

But they were already running, and Simmons was already trying to direct Thor into rolling Deathlok onto his back and keeping him immobilized.  Steve, Tony, and Ward thundered deeper into the Sandbox.  Everywhere HYDRA agents were coming at them, guns drawn and eyes wide in shock, but they were no match for Captain America and Iron Man.  Unfortunately it didn’t long for their attack to get widespread attention.  Steve didn’t know if it was from Rumlow’s warning to the rest of the Sandbox or not, but soon alarms were wailing and red lights were flashing.  He could hardly think for the pounding in his heart and head, panic coiled tightly in his stomach.  This place was just as much a maze as Ward had described, monotonous with gray and white tile and plain drywall.  There were no signs or directions posted anywhere.  They fought their way deeper into the interior.  Dead SHIELD agents and techs littered the hallways, likely slaughtered when HYDRA had made its move.  Horrified but undaunted, they ran down long corridors, passing offices and labs and security check points.  Ward used his own retinal scan and fingerprints to get them through every one of them.  “If they lock down, we’re going to be in trouble,” he said breathlessly.

“Then let’s get out before they do,” Tony replied tightly.  “Where next?”

“Down,” Ward declared, bursting through a set of double doors.  Tony and Steve shared a look, but there was no time to doubt, no time to wonder if this wasn’t another trap.  They barreled down the darkened steps, red alert lights flashing in the stairwell.  More than once Steve’s damaged leg and sore midsection threatened to fail him, but they didn’t, and they descended level after level after level until they couldn’t go down any further.  “These are the high security labs,” Ward explained as he opened the door.  “Garrett would keep them down here.”

Steve couldn’t see Tony’s face, but he could picture his friend’s terrified eyes.  “Where?”

Ward gestured ahead and then led them on.  This place was darker, with narrower corridors and huge labs teeming with supplies and high-tech equipment.  Steve could hardly breathe.  He rushed blindly, following Ward’s lead and praying and praying and _praying_ that this was it…

They rounded a corner.  There was a large lab ahead, secured by impenetrable doors and biometric scanners.  Ward sprinted closer, activating the scanners.  “Unauthorized attempt,” the computer chimed in a pleasant voice.  Ward looked perplexed and frustrated.  He tried again.  “Unauthorized attempt.”

“To hell with this,” Tony growled, and he launched both palm repulsors and a few missiles from his shoulder compartments at the sealed doors.  That was enough to blow them open, and when the smoke cleared and the flames died, they rushed inside.

Alarms blared.  Soldiers came at them, but Steve and Tony dropped them effortlessly.  Tony glanced around wildly.  Iron Man almost sagged in relief.  “Pepper!”

Pepper was there, in a glass cell in the corner of a spacious lab.  She was in the corner, dressed in the shorts and blouse she’d been wearing when she and Tony had taken Sarah out for ice cream.  It felt like a lifetime ago.  Her auburn hair was mussed, her make-up streaked by tears, her eyes wide and red-rimmed.  Steve’s heart tore itself in half, joy and grief sundering it.  Joy that Pepper was _here_ and _okay._   Grief that Sarah wasn’t.  _Sarah wasn’t._   Steve whirled, hunting the shadows, desperate to find some sign of his daughter, but there was nothing.  Nothing but supplies and work benches and tables.  _Nothing._

_No!_

Pepper had her knees up to her chest, tucked into as small as space as possible, but when she saw Steve and Tony, she leapt to her feet.  “Tony!  Steve!” she cried, her face fracturing in relief.  She ran to the glass wall of the cell, planting her hands on it and banging it anew.  “Tony, thank God!”

Tony was immediately on the other side of the barrier.  “Are you okay?  Did they hurt you?  Did they?”

Before Pepper could answer, an irate voice shouted over the wail of the alarms.  Steve recognized it immediately.  “What the hell’s going on in–”  He was stalking across the lab before he even thought to move, grabbing Agent Blake by the throat and slamming him into a work surface.  Everything on the counter rattled, and some things fell to the ground.

“Where is she?” Steve snarled.  Blake was horrified, eyes wide and face white.  “Where’s Sarah Rogers?”

Blake said nothing, quivering in the face of Steve’s barely restrained wrath.  Tony smashed the glass wall of Pepper’s cell repeatedly, but it didn’t give.  The surface dented, but there was hardly more than a mark.  Obviously the cell had been built to withstand more than the average prisoner.  “Open it!” Tony bellowed.  Blake did nothing, Steve’s fingers still clenched menacingly around his throat.  “Right now!  _Do it!_ ”

Steve let him go so that he could scramble to the controls.  He tapped a few and pressed his thumb into a scanner.  The nearly invisible door on the other side of the cell unlocked and Tony was there immediately, wrenching it off its hinges.  He burst inside the cell, running to Pepper, and she ran to him.  Steve watched them embrace, letting himself feel relief that Pepper was alright.  _Pepper’s alright._

His relief was short-lived.  There was a loud bang, most definitely that of a gun going off, and then Blake crumpled, shot in the chest.  He was dead before he hit the ground.  The gun went off again before he hit the ground, too, and Steve barely had a chance to register the fact that he was in danger, that there was a bullet headed to his unprotected side.  He spun, tried to bring his shield up, but he was too slow.  He couldn’t move faster than a bullet.  Not at this range.

He didn’t have to.

Something rammed him as he turned, not enough normally to knock him off balance, but the force of it twisted his bad leg and he went down.  That something went down on top of him.  Wet warmth spread all over Steve’s chest and neck.  It took his beleaguered mind to realize it was blood, and it wasn’t coming from his body.  _Ward._   Steve sat up, gathering the form that was sprawled over his in his arms.  Ward’s face was incredibly pale underneath the bruises.  It was scrunched up in pain, eyes half-lidded and mouth open in a desperate wheeze for air.  Horrified, Steve looked down to see an ocean of red spreading across Ward’s stomach.  He’d seen enough wounds during the war, been hurt badly enough himself in the past, to know this was serious, maybe even fatal, if they couldn’t get him help.

Which didn’t seem likely to happen.  Garrett laughed where he stood at the destroyed entrance of the lab, tossing the gun toward them.  It clattered on the floor and slid a couple of feet away.  The bullet wound in Garrett’s own chest was nothing more than a small, bloody hole.  “Well, I guess that answers whether or not I cared about you,” he said, staring haughtily at Ward as he writhed in agony against Steve.  “You wanted the truth.”

Tony simply lost it.  He was out of the cell, jetting across the room with thrusters brightly firing, and ramming Garrett.  Garrett snatched Iron Man about the arm, whirling and throwing him back into the exterior of the cell.  Tony hit hard and with a crunch.  Pepper cried out his name and ran to him.  Garrett rolled his neck, the action giving a series of quiet cracks, before he raised his fists and gestured at Steve.  “Come on, Cap.”

Steve was putting pressure on the wound in Ward’s abdomen, pushed hard with the flat of his palm despite Ward’s groans of pain and protest.  “I’m not fighting you,” he said.

“Don’t think you have a choice!”  Garrett decked him across the face, knocking him away from Ward.  Steve struggled to get his shield in place to catch the next strike, scrambling to his feet.  Garrett unceremoniously stepped over the unmoving body of his protégé, coming at Steve with furiously.  Steve sidestepped a kick, dodged another, and returned a punch of his own that knocked Garrett back.  This man might have been the first Deathlok, and he might have been as hyped up on Centipede as Peterson and the soldiers they’d fought, but his age and degeneration had him at a disadvantage.  And Steve was pretty sure his arrogance would be his undoing.

Then he’d pay for all the damage he’d done.

Steve landed a blow across Garrett’s face which seemingly popped his jaw out of his socket.  He popped it back with a breathless grin.  “Nice,” he commented.  Steve gritted his teeth, enraged, and went at him again.  All the pain faded away.  All of his fear.  All of his worry.  He was going to stop this man no matter what it cost him.  He was going to stop him.

“Let’s show him what nice is, Cap,” Iron Man declared tightly, landing beside Steve.  The two Avengers attacked together.  Garrett held his ground for a moment but not much more than that.  He was no match for them.  Tony blasted him in the chest.  Steve leapt, driving his shield down hard into the joint of his elbow.  Damaged mechanical parts whined as Garrett stumbled back.  Steve followed that with a whirling roundhouse kick, and their opponent staggered further into the wall behind them.  A rack of oxygen tanks fastened there rattled with the impact.

Garrett struggled to catch his breath.  He was bent, winded, his damaged arm useless at his side.  “You think you can stop us?” he hissed, staring at Steve and Tony.  “You think you can _ever_ win?  _Never._   Cut off one head and two more will take its place!”  He grabbed one of the tanks by its top and suddenly pitched it at them.  From Ward’s side Pepper cried out a warning that came too late as the tank hit Tony.  Iron Man was flung back, crushed under the weight.  He landed in a crumpled heap across the room.  Steve didn’t even have a chance to make sure he was alright because Garrett was already tossing another, which he barely ducked in time to avoid.  It sailed overhead.  This one exploded where the other hadn’t, hitting the flaming mess by the door of the lab.  The detonation shook the room wildly.

Alarms wailed.  Steve could hardly hear over them and the pounding in his head.  Garrett laughed maniacally, reaching for the next tank.  Steve moved back, eyes widening as the monster made to throw it at Pepper and Ward.  _No!_

But Ward was struggling to sit up.  He was struggling to raise his arm.  Somehow he’d gotten Garrett’s gun.  He pulled the trigger, and the shot uselessly struck the cybernetic plating of Garrett’s chest.  Garrett stopped, the tank held overhead, to laugh at him.  “Always thought you were a lousy–”

He never got the chance to finish.  Ward’s next shot met its mark, and its mark hadn’t been any vulnerable spot on Garrett.  The bullet struck the oxygen tank.  Garrett’s scream was lost in the boom that followed, and heat engulfed the room.  Steve slid across the floor, yanking Pepper into his arms and Ward with her, protecting them all with his shield as fire blasted over them.  The adjacent tanks were consumed, and as loud as the previous bang had been, that was nothing compared to the deafening thunder of them bursting.  That fueled the fire, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut against the unbearable force and searing heat.

After a seeming eternity, it was over.  He released a shuddering breath, letting Pepper go from shaking arms and turning to appraise the sight behind him.  The entire wall was gone, revealing a partially destroyed and mostly ablaze section of another laboratory behind them.  And Garrett was gone, too.  Dead.  The burnt remains of his metallic implants lay among the ashes.

The clank of the gun sliding out of Ward’s hand drew Steve’s attention, and he whipped back to see the SHIELD agent struggling to hold onto consciousness.  “No, no.  Stay with us,” Steve implored, dropping his shield to put pressure on the wound again.  Pepper was up, running back to the mostly intact cell where there was a sheet on the cot.  “Come on, Ward!  Tony!”

“I’m alright,” Tony returned roughly.  He’d extricated himself from beneath the miraculously undamaged tank, but he definitely looked worse for the wear.  The face plate of Iron Man’s helmet flipped up, revealing Tony’s bruised, haggard face.  Blood was slipping down his cheek from somewhere up higher.  He looked over the burning rubble of the lab and its contents.  “I guess that does in their plans to stabilize Extremis.”

“Tony, he’s bleeding out,” Steve said hoarsely, drawing his friend’s attention.  Ward’s face was pasty, gray as the blood drained from his body.  Pepper returned with the sheet, wasting no time in kneeling beside Steve and helping him to get consistent pressure on the wound.  Steve knew he should have been running, finding Sarah, but he just couldn’t move.  Not when Ward was hemorrhaging because he’d taken a bullet meant for him.  “How bad is it?”

Tony closed the face plate again, likely using Iron Man’s bioscanners to gauge the severit of the wound.  “Bad,” was all he said.

Ward coughed and blood came up.  Steve watched helplessly as shock took him down.  “Hang on, Grant!”

Different alarms started wailing.  “Warning,” the calm, feminine voice of the computer suddenly said.  “Structural integrity compromised.  Biohazard containment breached.  Floor shutdown in five minutes.  Recommend evacuation.”

Steve looked up wildly, blinking sweat from his eyes.  “What?  This wasn’t bad enough?” Tony snapped in panic.

Now there really was no time.  “Where’s Sarah?” Steve gasped, his bloodied fingers tight in the sleeve of Pepper’s shirt.  “Where?”

She looked lost.  Terrified.  “I don’t know!  They took her away from me right before you guys came – she wasn’t hurt, Steve, but I don’t know where they took her!”

 _Oh, God.  I have to find her!_   “Tony, get them out of here!”

“Steve, wait!” Tony yelled.  _“Wait!”_

 _“Just go!”_   And he was running, tearing out of the destroyed lab, shield in hand and heart thundering in his chest and so incredibly panicked that he couldn’t think or feel or hope or do anything aside from _look for her_.  He was sprinting along the maze of the corridors, a blur of empty labs and empty offices and empty empty _empty_ …  “Sarah!” he screamed once he reached a T-junction.  He drew to a stop, lost and terrified.  _“Sarah!”_

_“Daddy!”_

Steve knew that voice, knew that _word,_ even if it was so shrill and steeped in fear that he could barely understand it.  He whirled.  “Sarah!” he shouted again as loud as he could.  “Sarah, where are you?”  There was no answer.  _No!  No, no, no no…_ He stood stock still, willing the pounding tempo of his pulse between his ears to quiet so he could listen.  “Come on,” he whispered, turning around and around helplessly because there was nothing else he could do.  “Come on, baby girl.  Please, God, talk to me.  _Sarah!_ ”

She cried again.  He ran.  Down the hall to the left, barreling through double doors so hard he ripped them off the hinges.  “Sarah!” he kept shouting.  “Where are you?  Call to me!”

“Daddy!  Daddy!”

Steve ran harder, faster, trusting his senses, trusting that this was going to be it.  He was going to find her and hold her and get her out of here and _no one was ever going to hurt them again…_

Finally, _finally_ , he found her.  There was a room at the end of hallway secured by another set of double doors.  Steve kicked them open to find some sort of server room.  Tall racks of computer cores adorned in dim, flashing blue lights were lined up in rows down below where the air was intensely cool.  There was a gangway that ran across the circular area over the pit.  And in the center of that gangway stood Sarah.

Steve could hardly believe his relief as he charged across the walkway, the grating rattling under his boots.  He slid to his knees right in front of her, opening his arms, and she threw herself at him.  “Sarah,” he gasped through tears, grabbing her and holding her tight against him.  He choked on a sob, breathing and smelling her, feeling her mussed hair against his cheek and her tiny body so precious in his arms and her crying frantically into his neck.  “It’s alright,” he promised.  “It’s alright now.  It’s alright, baby.  I’m here.  I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t stop, nearly hysterical as she clung to him.  And he couldn’t stop, either, even though he needed to.  He wanted to stay right there and make sure she was okay and that this wasn’t some sort of dream.  He’d found her.  She was there.  He had her.  _She was there._ “Warning,” the computer chimed again.  In the huge, mostly empty room, the calm tone echoed ominously.  “Structural integrity compromised.  Biohazard containment breached.  Floor shutdown in two minutes.  Recommend evacuation.”  Steve gasped, his eyes flying open.  _Go._ He lifted her into his embrace and turned.  They had to get out of there.  They had to–

Mandy stood at the other end of the gangway, right in front of the door.  She was as stunning as she’d been the last time he’d seen her, only all of that playful and sweet innocence was gone, burned away by the truth.  By hard lines and hungry hatred.  She wore a black cat suit that hugged her perfect body and left little to the imagination, HYDRA’s menacing cephalopod emblazoned on the shoulder.  Her eyes were narrowed into an icy glare.  Her lips were set in an amused, anticipatory quirk of a grin.  Her hands were on her hips.  And she was blocking the only way out.

That little coy grin broke into a full-fledged smile.  How could he have ever thought that was beautiful?  “Well, here you are,” she said softly.  “I knew you’d find your way.  I knew if I pressured you right, you’d come.”

“What do you want?” Steve snapped, every muscle in his body taut.  He tucked Sarah tighter to him, his shield protectively in front of her.  That hungry glint in Mandy’s eye was revolting.  She didn’t answer other than to smile wider.  Steve’s fury was consuming.  “If you wanted me, you had me!  I was right there!  You could have taken me!”

“This isn’t just about you,” Mandy returned.  “Right, Sarah, dear?”  Sarah flinched, hiding her face deeper into the nape of her father’s neck.  “It never has been.”  Her eyes glowed in the pale light of the room.  Ethereal.  Almost grotesque.  “It’s about us.  It’s about what we have together.”

“What we have together?” Steve repeated incredulously.  What in the world…  Was _that_ what all of this was about?  Some obsession with him?  She’d wanted into his life like some obsessed fan?  “We don’t have anything together!  _Nothing!_ ”

She smirked.  “You sure about that?”

He was sure.  _Positive._   He’d been attracted to her, of course, but there’d never been anything more than that.  _Never._

But she was staring at him, positive herself, and that gave him pause to really consider what she was saying, to think past his anger and fear and disgust.  To _think_.  She looked familiar.  How could she be familiar to him when they’d never met?  How…

_What we have together._

“Oh, God,” he whispered.  His heart stopped and then plummeted into the pit of his stomach.  Cold realization washed over him and left misery in its wake.  Vaguely he felt himself shake his head.  It couldn’t be.  “No.”

_It couldn’t be!_

It was her.  _She was the one._   The storm of emotions battering him left him reeling.  The room pitched.  He felt light-headed.  Violated.  Exposed.  _Betrayed._   Far more now than he ever had before, even when Fury had summoned him three years ago to see the baby that had been made with his DNA.  This woman, whoever she was…  She was the one who’d done it.  Ordered it.  _Created her._

Sarah’s mother.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?  I thought so, too,” Mandy said, her voice dripping in false sincerity.  “There isn’t much of me in there, but I can see it.  Obviously you can, too.”

Steve thought he was going to be sick.  He held Sarah tighter, turning himself so that she was hidden behind him.  “What do you want?” he hissed again.

“I told you she was going to want her daddy,” Mandy said, taking a step closer.  “So do I.”

“No!  Get back!”

“I want you both.  Together with me.”

“As what?  Some sort of… of… twisted family?” Steve stammered.

She cocked an eyebrow.  “Yes,” she said matter-of-factly.  “HYDRA’s time is just beginning.  The union between our strongest enemy and our leader’s legacy…  Returning supremacy to where it belongs.  _Our_ hands.”  She still came closer, her walk almost sultry.  Sarah whimpered, and Steve took another step back.  “You and I could rule this world together, Steve.  Destroy anyone who stands in our way.  Crush freedom.  Forget SHIELD.  Forget the Avengers.  When Captain America comes to our side, there will be no hope left for opposition.  Our domination will be complete.”  Her eyes flicked to Sarah.  “And she can carry our power into the future.”

“You’re insane.  There is no power,” he said.  Of all the varying levels of _crazy_ and _disturbing_ this was, the last thing she said was the one thing onto which he latched.  “Sarah doesn’t have the serum.  She doesn’t have it!  There’s no power!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mandy replied.  “If she’s a failure, we can keep trying.  You want to know what I want, why I took her and brought you here?  What this was all about?  The future, Captain.  Together, you and I…”  She was close enough now to touch Steve’s cheek.  “We can make my grandfather’s vision a reality.”

Silence came.  Thick.  Torturous.  He couldn’t process this.  He couldn’t believe it.  What she wanted…  It was some sort of perverted fantasy of the two of them together.  Leading HYDRA _together_ with Sarah as HYDRA’s next generation of tyrant.  Breeding a new line of super soldiers.  She’d stolen his samples from SHIELD, mixed his genetic material with her own, _forced_ this situation…  “Warning.  Structural integrity compromised.  Biohazard containment breached.  Floor shutdown in one minute.  Recommend evacuation.”

There was nothing to say.  Nothing more than this.  _“Never.”_

Steve dropped his shoulder forward and ran, ramming her and shoving her aside.  She pitched over the railing of the gangway, falling down into the server pit below.  Her frustrated scream echoed through the vacuous room.  “You think you can run?  You can’t run!  HYDRA will find you!  I’ll find you!  She’s mine!  _You’re mine!”_

He didn’t stay to watch, couldn’t listen to anymore, whirling and bursting through the doorway.  Panic raked over him.  He was so shaken he could hardly remember, hardly figure out which way to go.  But he did.  The serum filled his mind with images, a map, the path back to the stairs.  _Go!_

He slid his shield to his back in one quick motion to get a better grip on Sarah.  “Hang onto me tight,” he said.  He barely felt her nod against his neck before taking off, running as fast as he could.  He wrapped the muscles of his arms around her securely, one huge hand on the back of her head to protect it and keep her face hidden in his shoulder.  He didn’t think, trusting his feet to know where to take him.  He smacked into the wall when he took a turn too sharp, sending agony blasting up and down his damaged arm, but he only grunted, powering onward.

They hit a blockade of fire.  Wreckage from the explosion before was covering this hallway, consuming everything in its path, and they couldn’t go any further.  The flames were spreading with a passion.  Steve watched wide-eyed, covering Sarah more completely as searing heat assailed them.  He backpedaled.  Something else exploded, shaking the corridor and the rooms surrounding it.  Debris fell on them.  Sarah shrieked.  Steve turned and ran back the other way.  Now he was dizzy.  Turned around and confused.  He sprinted through a vacant lab, slamming his back through the door and smashing it before twisting and running anew.  _Damn it._

“Daddy,” Sarah whined.

“I know.  I know.”  He drew to a stop at another intersection, trying to picture where he was.  God, left or right?  There was no time to wonder, so he simply picked one and ran.  Thankfully it seemed like he’d made the right choice.  Ahead were the doors to the stairwell.  Steve could hardly contain his relief, hardly find the energy to keep going, but he did.  He ran as fast and as hard as he could.  And he was through the remains of the doors and into the stairwell with seconds to spare.

Steve dropped to his knees, gasping wildly, as the heavy containment doors closed behind him.  They came together with a low thud that shook the stairwell.  For what felt like a long time, he couldn’t manage anything more than breathing and squeezing Sarah to him.  He couldn’t catch his wind, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t think or feel or speak.  Tears slipped down his cheeks in a steady stream, and he shuddered with it all.  With everything.  With the horror of what he’d learned.  With the overwhelming _joy_ of having Sarah back in his arms.  No matter what else, she was safe, and he had her back.

“Sarah,” he finally whispered, peeling her away.  A frantic need to make sure she was alright rushed over him.  “Are you hurt?  Does anything hurt?”  He pressed around her little limbs, torso, and abdomen with shaking fingers, giving her a cursory check.  Aside from a pretty serious scrape on her arm from the close call in the corridor a moment before, she was okay.  _She’s okay._   “Oh, thank God.  Come here, baby.”  He kissed her all over her face and head, weeping as much as he was breathing.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, “smooshing me.”

“Sorry, honey,” he said around a happy, laughing sob.  He pulled back again, wiping at his face.

“Where were you?” she asked, her lower lip quivering.

“It took me a little time to find you,” he said, using the pad of his thumb to catch her tears.  “That’s all.  Promised you I would, didn’t I?”  He managed a smile.  So did she, and a little nod.  In just these last few horrendous hours, he felt like he’d forgotten so much.  Her eyes.  The blond curls.  Her face.

_What we have together._

“Warning.  Structural integrity compromised.  Biohazard containment breached.  Sealing northwest stairwell in one minute.  Recommend evacuation.”

 _Oh, no._ Steve’s blood turned to ice water, and his gaze shot upward.  They were at least twenty flights of stairs down.  As fast as he was, there was no way he could climb that distance fast enough.

He had to try.

“Hold onto me, honey,” he said, and Sarah thankfully didn’t cry or question, flinging her arms around his neck.  He kept his damaged arm tight around her, gathered every last bit of his strength and energy, and jumped.  He reached the outside of the landing of the next floor up, grabbing the railing and holding tight.  Sarah screamed at the jostling, hanging on desperately.  Steve threw his leg over the railing and started climbing.  He took the steps three at a time, trying to stay calm, to stay strong, to go as fast as he could.  As fast as he could wasn’t good enough.  He wasn’t going to make it.

There was a massive bang above.  Steve tucked himself to the cold cement of the wall, putting his body between Sarah and whatever had come for them now.  Sarah screamed again.  _You’re  not taking her again!_

“Need a lift?”  Steve whirled.  Iron Man was there, hovering on the other side of the railing.  _Oh, God.  Thank God._   They didn’t talk.  Steve jumped the railing, both his arms firm around Sarah, and landed in Tony’s embrace.  He caught his feet on Iron Man’s boots, sparing one of his arms to wrap it around Tony’s torso.  A breath later Iron Man was shooting upward, rocketing through the darkened stairwell and streaking to the top.  But he didn’t stop there.  “Hang on!”  The world twisted and pitched as Tony flew through the Sandbox, weaving through the corridors at ridiculous speeds, shooting any remaining HYDRA agents.  It was over in a few seconds.  They burst through to the lobby and then up and out into the sun.

Steve couldn’t catch his breath as Tony hovered above the desert.  His limbs were tingling and weak with shock and relief.  Thankfully, even as Tony landed firmly beside the quinjet, the inventor didn’t move away, supporting Steve with a steady arm.  Pepper was there.  And Thor.  They came running.  “Are you alright?” Tony said.  Sarah shrieked at the sight of Iron Man, shivering in terror and burying her face in Steve’s neck.  “No, no, Sarah baby, it’s me.  It’s Uncle Tony!  It’s Uncle Tony.”  He opened Iron Man’s face plate again to prove it to her, but she was too far gone in hysterics to notice.

“Is she okay?  Oh, honey,” Pepper gasped, laying her hands on Sarah’s heaving back.  She was practically hyperventilating she was crying so hard.  “Steve–”

“We need to go,” Steve said breathlessly.  “Right now.  We need to get out of here.”  He started jogging to the ramp of the jet.

“Wait, Steve, Simmons is trying to get Ward stabilized and Peterson’s not in good shape and–”

“What is it?” Thor asked.  Worry turned his face lax and uncertain.  “What?”

“We need to go!” Steve snapped again.  His control was dangling by a thread.  He was losing it, and he couldn’t stop.  God, it hurt.  “This isn’t over!  She’ll come for us!”

Tony didn’t understand.  “Who?”  Steve couldn’t answer at first, could hardly speak past the wretched lump in his throat.  “Steve, _who?_ ”

“Sarah’s mother,” he whispered hoarsely.  “She’s Sarah’s mother.”  Despite Sarah’s screams, they all heard him, and he knew it.  And they all knew about whom he was talking.  His shoulders quivered and his eyes burned.  He helplessly shook against it all, against the pain inside his heart and soul and the pain all over his body.  Against the awful truth.  Frantically he kissed Sarah’s head where she was wailing against him and limped quickly back to the jet.  “We have to go.  Now.  _Please._ ”

The small group shared shocked looks.  But they didn’t ask any of the million questions poised on their lips and burning in their eyes and racing through their hearts.  “Right,” Tony said softly, grabbing Pepper and Thor and pushing them after their captain.  “Let’s get away from this nightmare.”


	10. Chapter 10

As it turned out, the nightmare was fairly inescapable.

By the time they rendezvoused with the rest of the team and the Bus, HYDRA was coming out of the woodwork all over the globe.  It was pouring from the shattered remains of SHIELD like a parasite emerging from the corpse it had sucked dry.  The other Avengers had been successful in stopping the attack at the Triskelion; thanks to the Hulk, the SHIELD helicarrier was now a smoking pile of wreckage half submerged in the Potomac River.  But that was where the success ended.  SHIELD was falling apart.  The Hub was under the control of HYDRA.  The Fridge was potentially under attack.  If it hadn’t happened yet, it would soon.  The international intelligence community was in shambles, and people from government officials to local law enforcement were scrambling to secure the situation.  Fury was supposedly dead, but no one had been able to confirm to deny that.  There was no body as far as Coulson and his team knew.  Hill was alive, but she was on the run.  Coulson was barely in contact with her at this point.  Other high-ranking SHIELD officials were dead.  Victoria Hand.  Jasper Sitwell.  Some could have been HYDRA.  Some not.  It didn’t matter.  So many peers and colleagues.  _Gone._

And it wasn’t just HYDRA.  It wasn’t clear at this point how much of this was connected, but HYDRA’s move against SHIELD had spurned all sorts of other attacks on international security.  AIM.  Seemingly random terrorist cells.  If these things were all linked rather than just coincidence, this was disturbing on a level that went well beyond horror.  A network of evil had grown and spread right under Fury’s nose.  Under the Avengers’ noses.  And no one had seen it.  That made some sick sort of sense.  HYDRA had its fingers deep into SHIELD, and that it had control over information, over the intelligence that made SHIELD so powerful.  The capacity to turn a purposeful blind eye and keep the truth well-hidden.  SHIELD had the power and reach to secretly cause crisis after crisis, alter the way of the world however it saw fit.  And it had.

Now they would all pay for their trust.

At least it seemed like Mike Peterson would recover.  Simmons assured him and the rest of the team that the implants could be removed long before they caused the sort of damage that they had to Garrett.  With the ocular implant and the threat of death gone, the man began to emerge from the machine.  Peterson was timid, relieved to be free, but so ashamed and frightened with what he’d been forced to do.  Coulson’s team had been particularly encouraging for him.  He had a long road ahead of him, but he seemed to be on it already.  And when Skye had activated a video chat with his estranged son, Peterson had broken down and openly cried in joy.  He could go home to him now.  They could be a family again.

And the cure for Centipede developed by Bruce and Simmons had worked, so that was another small success.  It had shut down the Centipede-enhanced soldiers fairly readily, and Coulson was working to inform other loyal SHIELD agents everywhere about how to manufacture it (although it was difficult to tell who was loyal, but the risk had to be taken).  According to Pepper, Agent Blake and his team of HYDRA researchers hadn’t been able to repair Extremis in the time they’d had her and Sarah prisoner.  They’d taken quite a lot of blood samples from her, but they hadn’t done anything more invasive than that, much to everyone’s relief (especially Tony’s).  Still, Bruce checked both Pepper and Sarah over as they flew from DC back to New York in the Bus.  She’d sat in Simmon’s lab, quietly telling the tale of their abduction.  It could have been so much worse.  The nightmares the Avengers had feared hadn’t come to pass, not of Pepper being experimented upon or Sarah being hurt for no reason other than to lure her father into their captor’s grasp.  They’d even kept Pepper and Sarah together for the most part, a small mercy for the young child and for Pepper who loved her deeply and would do anything to protect her.  It had been a harrowing day, but aside from a few scrapes, bumps, and bruises (and the emotional damage – that was something about which no one wanted to think), they were both okay.

Unfortunately, though, Pepper couldn’t tell them anything more about the situation than they already knew.  They’d spent most their time in that glass cell in the lab, under armed guard while Blake and his cronies had worked.  Garrett had appeared once or twice, but other than that, they’d been left alone.  Pepper had heard Blake speaking to someone on a video chat, requesting that Tony be taken prisoner rather than killed so that he could “aid” in extracting and stabilizing Extremis.  She hadn’t been able to see or hear to whom Blake had been talking.  There’d been some mention of deploying “the Asset” (whoever or whatever that was) to ensure Stark was captured unharmed.  The person on the other end of the conversation had refused, if Blake’s frustration had been any indication.  Other than that, she hadn’t overheard anything else.

That still left a whole lot questions unanswered.  Questions Steve didn’t want to think about.  After rejoining the rest of the team and taking the Bus to the relative safety of the sky, he was trying to do just that: not think.  He’d fallen into this numbness, functioning but distant from it all, cold and hard and sinking into the mantle of Captain America’s cool and confident persona.  It was all he could do to stay strong and not break.  He’d answered what he could.  He’d given orders.  Secure the operation.  Assemble lists of safe locations and trusted people amidst all this chaos.  Find out about Fury.  Locate Hill.  Stay on top of the news to determine their next move.  Go back to New York, back to Stark Tower, and get their loved ones to safety.  If SHIELD was HYDRA and SHIELD had known all about them and their families, the danger was far-reaching and immense.  Thor was concerned for Jane.  Bruce for Betty Ross, even if he tried to keep his distance from her out of fear of hurting her himself.  They needed to reassess and regroup.  Gather themselves in the wake of this madness, because humanity would surely need the Avengers now more than ever before.

But all of that, thinking and planning and trying to get a handle on their shattering world, was really just a defense mechanism.  It was a way for Steve to disconnect from the enormity of the horror he was feeling.  The betrayal.  The terror and pain.  After an hour or so of listening to Clint, Natasha, and Coulson debrief him on the battle over the Potomac, over what they knew for certain and what they feared and what they had lost, he couldn’t take it anymore.  Before he’d even realized where he was going or what he was doing, his feet had carried his aching, exhausted body to Skye’s bunk on the Bus where Sarah was sleeping.

She was curled up in Skye’s blanket, slumbering deeply and peacefully.  There was a huge bandage on her arm.  The laceration she’d sustained during their frantic escape had been deep enough to require Bruce to put a few stitches in it.  Steve had held her during that, trying to comfort her as she’d wailed and keened throughout the traumatic process.  He’d been trying not to cry himself.  A dose of painkillers had knocked her out, and she’d been contented ever since.  He stared at her, trying to feel _something_ other than this dull, pulsing misery that was so tight in his chest.  There’d been relief, of course.  So much relief on his part and Clint’s and Bruce’s and Thor’s.  Natasha’s.  Tony’s.  But it was tempered by the cold, hard truth.  Steve closed his eyes against the burn of tears and sat on the edge of the bunk.  He was tentative, hesitant even where he’d never been before, to brush his hand through the messy mop of blond hair atop her head.  God, his heart was breaking.  Everything felt _different._ One moment, one word, had changed it all.  _Mother._

How could he protect her from this?

Eventually he couldn’t stand the distance and lay down beside her.  He wrapped his good arm around her tiny form, bringing her close to his chest.  The bunk wasn’t big really enough to comfortably accommodate his large frame, so he curled up around her, breathing deeply of her and holding her tight.  He tried to ignore it all, to go back to just a couple of days ago when she’d climbed into his bed one morning and they’d wrestled and tickled and laughed.  It felt like a lifetime ago.  And he was tired.  So tired.  They wouldn’t be back to New York for another hour or so, so…

“Steve?”

He opened eyes that had slipped shut and turned to see Natasha at the door to the little room.  She was still dressed in her uniform, which was ripped and covered in dust.  Red curls framed a tired, bruised, _worried_ face.  Without his invitation, she stepped further inside the alcove, sliding the door shut behind her.  “How is she?”

Steve looked back down at Sarah, who’d snuggled closer to his familiar warmth while he’d dozed.  She was still peaceful, not a line of pain or fear on her face.  “She’s alright,” he said in a soft voice.

Natasha nodded, looking like she wanted to make sure of that herself.  She’d hardly had a chance to see Sarah when they’d reunited, the chaos of the situation demanding that personal needs be set aside.  But she didn’t come much closer.  “How are you?”

With a grimace, Steve forced himself to sit up.  _Everything_ hurt.  His broken arm, which was bandaged and braced again and now in a tight sling.  His damaged leg.  His side that was scraped raw.  The dozens of new bruises and contusions and cuts from the fight.  As bad as it was, though, none of it compared to the dull anguish in his chest.  “Did Tony tell you?”  Natasha nodded.  Somehow that bothered him, not that the truth was coming out in all of its ugliness, but that it was _real_ because the rest of the team knew about it.  He forced himself to rise above the mess in his head.  “How’re you?  Didn’t even get a chance to ask before.”

“I’m alright,” she assured softly, though the tone of her voice and the darkness of her eyes suggested otherwise.  And why should she be alright?  Steve wasn’t the only one who’d had his entire world shattered.  Who’d had his life ripped apart at the seams.  Clint and Natasha…  SHIELD was what they knew.  What they _were._   And now it was gone.  Now it was nothing more than a lie, a mask used to hide a face that was truly hideous and evil.  They’d spent years unwittingly serving HYDRA’s dark ambitions.  Would there ever be a way to parse the good missions from the bad, the times they’d served right and protected innocents from those where they’d been used to further HYDRA’s schemes?  And no matter what Steve thought of Nick Fury, he knew Natasha had respected him greatly.  The thought of him dead wasn’t easy to accept.

But he didn’t press her on that.  And she didn’t press him.  They held each other’s gazes a moment before Steve sank back down, his energy failing him.  He closed his eyes again.  He didn’t want to talk.  Not about anything.

“Move over.”

“What?”  She was suddenly right beside him, smiling sadly and tipping her head to the right to suggest he should make room for her.  “There’s no room.  You won’t fit.”

“Yes, I will,” she declared with absolute certainty in her voice.  He stared incredulously at her for a moment before following her orders and forcing his leaden body over another few inches.  The bunk wasn’t anything wider than a twin bed, but they made it work.  He lay on his back before moving Sarah on top of him, lifting her onto his chest with his good arm.  And Natasha slid next to him like she was _meant to do it_ , pillowing her head on his shoulder and curling on her side around his hip.  She was careful of his hurt arm and damaged side, careful of her own injuries, so careful but so sure.  They’d never been like this before, despite the many close calls and more than simply affectionate moments they’d shared in the past.  He couldn’t believe he’d never seen those moments before, never realized what they were.  Teasing and talking and sparring and understanding each other.  Quiet times watching Sarah and Natasha color together and finding it striking and beautiful.  Still, right now was different.  It was intimate, tender in a new way, and Natasha reached over to brush a lock of Sarah’s hair from her face before setting her hand on her back, rubbing gently.

They were quiet for a while, the hum of the plane around them comforting and lulling.  Relaxed, but not entirely, because outside this little bunk all of the darkness and difficulty was still there, and it wasn’t just going to go away.  Still, here and now, Sarah was back.  She was safe.  They’d rescued her, and she was loved and protected by her father and the Avengers, and no one would threaten that again.  For this moment there was no ugly reality, no tomorrow, no _war_ looming over them.  Right here and now, they were safe and untouched.

And having Natasha there like this…  “She’s still your daughter, you know,” she quietly said.  Her hair was covered in dust and soot from the battle, and there was dirt streaked all over her, but Steve thought she was radiant.  “No matter who her mother is, why she was made…  She’s _your_ daughter.”  Natasha turned her head to look up at him.  “That’s the only thing that matters.”

That _was_ the only thing that mattered.  Sarah was his.  No matter what, he was going to love her and take care of her.  Cherish her.  Teach her right from wrong.  Raise her to be the best she could be.  He would do that.  They all would.  He released a slow breath, those few, simple words a soothing balm to his aching spirit.  It wasn’t going to wash the pain away because nothing could so simply, but it helped.  It helped a lot.

Natasha smiled faintly.  “Knew you’d get her back.  And I know you’ll get through this because I know you.  You can fight your way out of anything, Steve.  Survive anything.  Make the right choices when they’re aren’t any good choices to be had.  When you’re backed up to a wall, you do the right thing.  So it’s going to be alright.  I know it.”  She’d promised that so much over the last day.  He’d never realized how much he needed to hear it.  “You’re Captain America.”

That was true.  But he’d sort of stopped listening.  He was mesmerized by her lips, the way she spoke, even more than what she was saying.  Again, her face was so close.  So close.  He leaned down and–

“Hey, Cap, there’s – uh, okay.  Whoa.”  _Tony_.  Again.  The inventor had cracked the door of the bunk and was wincing outside.  “Sorry.  I’ll just–”

Steve flushed with embarrassment and leaned away from Natasha’s face.  Natasha herself lithely sprung from the bunk.  She glared at Tony, though with a fraction of her normal terror-inducing intensity.  “What is it?”

Tony cleared his throat and opened the sliding door a little wider.  He managed half a smile, but the flush faded from his cheeks as the seriousness of the situation poured back in around them.  “Ward’s awake.  He wants to see you, I guess.”  Tony’s deadened tone told Steve all he needed to know about what his friend thought about that.  But he went on to make it explicit, anyway.  “You don’t need to.”

 _Yes, I do._   Steve gently untangled himself from Sarah and settled her back into the bed, bringing the blanket up around her.  None of the motion or noise had disturbed her.  He hesitated, unwilling to leave her even for a moment.  It wasn’t rational; there was no danger here, not among his friends and family.  But the paranoia was hard to shake.  It was harder than anything else.  Natasha seemed to recognize what he couldn’t say.  “I’ll stay with her,” she promised softly.  She came back to the bunk and held her hand out to Steve to help him to his feet.  He stared at her outstretched fingers, not quite processing what she wanted or meant.  Then he took her hand and let her carefully pull him up.  She was always so strong.  “It’ll be alright.  If she so much as stirs, I’ll come get you.”

Steve hesitated a moment more but nodded.  He limped away toward Tony, watching over his shoulder as Natasha sat on the edge of the bunk and resumed tenderly brushing Sarah’s dirty hair from her face.  Sarah sighed and sank deeper into sleep, going completely pliant under Natasha’s gentle hands.  Steve released a long breath himself and let Tony lead him away.

They walked in silence through the Bus until Tony couldn’t stand it anymore.  He took Steve’s unhurt arm and pulled him into a firm, unyielding hug.  Steve gave a grunt of surprise.  “They’re alright, Steve,” Tony murmured against his ear.  He was shaking.  “They’re alright.”

“I know, Tony.”

“You’re gonna be alright.”

The burn of tears in his eyes surprised him.  That cold distance was disappearing, and he was being tugged back into the sucking morass of fear, doubt, and anger.  But he fought that, squeezing Tony tighter.  “Yeah,” he gasped.  “I think so.  Are you?”

Tony choked out something that could have been a sob into Steve’s shoulder.  “Yeah.”  They stood still a moment more.  This was embarrassing.  They probably should have been ashamed, two grown men, Captain America and Iron Man, standing and hugging and crying (a little).  But neither of them was ashamed, not after nearly losing everything they held most dear.

Eventually Tony pulled away, wiping quickly at his eyes.  “I, uh…  Steve…  Thanks.”

Steve didn’t understand.  “For what?”

Tony cleared his throat, straightening his already woefully rumpled clothes and brushing away any evidence that he’d been crying.  “For getting them back.”  Steve opened his mouth to argue and object and tell Tony he hadn’t been the one who–  “You were the one who turned Ward.  Who got through to him.  If it had been up to me, I woulda kicked his ass until he cracked.  If it had been up to any of us, honestly.  But you…  You were right.  About giving him a chance.  About not just taking the easy way out because we were stuck in between a rock and a hard place.”

“Tony–”

“Don’t argue,” Tony said firmly but lightly.  He smiled weakly.  “You always argue that you’re not every bit as stupid and stubborn and _good_ as we all know you are.  So give it a rest, huh?”

Warmth spread over Steve at that.  Warmth and pride and appreciation for Tony and their friendship.  It felt stronger than ever.  Tony turned to keep going, but Steve stopped him and hugged him again as best he could with one good arm.  “Whoa there, Capsicle,” Tony joked, like they hadn’t just been doing this seconds before or numerous times already since this nightmare began.  He patted Steve’s back.  “I think we’ve hugged more in the last twenty-four hours than we have in our entire tenure as the odd couple of the Avengers.”

“Maybe,” Steve conceded.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Steve grunted.  “It’s manly hugging.”

Tony laughed and rugged his back.  “It’ll be alright,” he promised after a moment.  “Just like we said, huh?  We’ll go home.  Make sure they’re safe.  Keep them safe.  So what if HYDRA’s coming out?  We’ll put ’em back.  We’re the Avengers.”

Steve nodded, leaning away.  “Disney World, right?”

“Of course.”  They laughed good-naturedly, but it still felt a little forced.  A little unsure.

Together they continued toward the infirmary.  Coulson was outside, watching through the glass observation window.  The room wasn’t terribly large, but it was serving its purpose in keeping Ward alive until they could get him to better accommodations.  The place had been darkened, and the fallen SHIELD specialist lay on the same medical examination table on which Steve had been earlier.  The monitors there were conscientiously displaying his vitals, which looked decent all things considering.  He had IVs in both arms and an oxygen mask over his face.  Bloodied bandages encircled his abdomen.  Simmons had been the one to save his life, Simmons and Skye.  They’d rushed him to surgery the minute the quinjet had rendezvoused with the Bus, and with Bruce’s help, they’d managed to repair most of the damage from the gunshot wound.  Still, Ward had lost a great deal of blood and had been deeply into shock.  For a while, it had seemed very touch and go.

Right now, though, he was alright, mostly unconscious and doped to the gills on painkillers.  He was seemingly sleeping under the watchful eyes of Skye and Simmons.  Steve watched his white face, lax and surprisingly peaceful despite how pale he was.  “Is he going to okay?” he asked Coulson.

Coulson swallowed and nodded.  “Yeah, Jemma and Doctor Banner think so.”

That was a relief.  “What will happen to him?” Tony asked, his voice and expression very clearly torn between wanting to condemn Ward and wanting to accept him.

Coulson sighed.  “I don’t know.  Garrett’s hold on him was pretty strong.”  That was massive understatement, and Steve flinched inwardly.  He hadn’t told anyone about Ward’s last minute betrayal.  He wasn’t sure what he thought of it himself.  Obviously Ward had needed to see for himself what sort of monster Garrett was.  Steve didn’t know if he could fault him for that, and it had worked out in the end (as well as it could have at any rate).  Any loyalty Ward had felt for Garrett had obviously died when he’d killed him.  And any doubt about his willingness to do the right thing had died when he’d taken a bullet for Steve.  As damaged as he was, Ward had found his way back to the right side.  “We’ll make sure he recovers.  I don’t think Skye or Fitz or Simmons will let me do anything else other than give him another chance.  Help him get out from under it.  Besides, I have a feeling we’re going to need every SHIELD agent we can get on our side.”

Tony nodded, maybe not entirely pleased (or forgiving) but okay with that at least.  “You have the Avengers, too.”  Coulson finally tore his worried gaze from Ward to appraise him.  “You died to build this team.  No matter what else, Fury wanted the Avengers to come together and stay together.  He wanted your sacrifice to mean something to us.  And we’re not going to turn our backs on that.”

Coulson smiled faintly, maybe in surprise.  The last time he’d seen Tony Stark he hadn’t exactly been a team player.  Sarcastic and arrogant and selfish.  And the last time he’d seen Tony and Steve they’d been at odds.  The whole team had been at odds.  They’d all changed so much since then.  His eyes softened with genuine appreciation of that.  “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded.  “Wherever this goes, we’re in it together.”

They turned back to the scene in the infirmary beyond.  Skye was sitting beside Ward in what looked like an incredibly uncomfortable chair.  Steve got the impression that she’d been there since they’d settled Ward and that she would be there for hours to come.  It wasn’t easy to see from their vantage, but both her hands were wrapped around one of his.  Her thumb was sweeping over his knuckles.  “To that end, Skye’s trying to find out more about Amanda Thayer, whoever she actually is.”  This time Steve’s flinch was more noticeable.  No one had told Coulson or any of his team the truth about Sarah’s mother out of respect for Steve (and out of worry about the extent of the situation).  “She might not have been in charge of this whole fiasco, but she was definitely among the higher-ups.  Whatever Skye digs up, we’ll send to you.”

“Okay,” Tony said.

“May’s got some leads on a hidden SHIELD installation in Canada…  Something Fury told her about once not too long ago.  She thinks it must have been for a reason.  Maybe it was spared from all this craziness.  Once we drop you guys, we’ll head there if Ward can make the flight.  Hopefully we’ll find something to help.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Coulson said, offering both men a firm nod and a small smile.

As he turned to go, though, Steve called after him.  “Agent Coulson.”  That made the other man pause, and he pivoted to regard Steve expectantly.  “You know, if you still have ’em…  I’d be more than happy to sign those trading cards.”

Coulson’s face broke into an expression of confusion.  “What are you…”  Then he remembered.  “Oh.  _Oh._   Yeah.  Yeah, I still have them.  Well, some of them.  The ones that were not covered in fake blood anyway.”  He smiled at Steve tentatively.  “Really?  You wouldn’t mind?”

“Seems like the least I can do for all the help you’ve given us,” Steve replied, grinning himself.

Coulson looked flustered, just like he had on the quinjet out to the helicarrier years ago when they’d first met.  Flustered and excited and – what did Tony call it? – fanboying.  “Sure.  That would be–”  He took a short breath to compose himself and reel in his excitement.  “That would be great, Cap.”  He looked between Tony and Steve one more time with honest-to-goodness excitement on his face, like he truly couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have his heroes right in front of him.  That his team had worked with the Avengers to overcome this difficult situation.  Then he smiled again and took his leave.

Tony grunted.  “Even though we have him to thank for getting Pepper and Sarah back, sometime tells me he thinks he’s making out like a bandit.”  Steve laughed a little.  “You going in there?”

That tempered Steve’s mood.  “Yeah.”

“Alright.  I’m going to get us ready.  We should be landing in LaGuardia in less than an hour, and I want the Tower’s security systems on lockdown before we get there.”  Tony clasped his shoulder again once more before limping off.

Steve drew a deep breath and headed inside the darkened room.  Skye immediately heard his entrance, turning in the chair.  She’d gathered her abundant brown hair into a loose ponytail.  Her eyes looked wet, worried, but at the sight of Steve, there was a glimmer of joy.  “Captain Rogers,” she said in greeting.

“It’s Steve,” he said, slowly approaching.

Skye flushed, wiping fingers across her eyes.  “Never imagined I’d ever be on a first-name basis with Captain America,” she said with a laugh.  Her smile slipped a bit.  “How is Sarah?”

Steve wet his lips, wincing as he took in Ward’s limp and broken body.  “She’s going to be fine, thanks to you,” he answered.  “How is he?”

Skye smiled tenderly.  “He’s going to be fine,” she replied warmly and a bit facetiously.  “Thanks to you.”

Steve shook his head.  “I didn’t do anything.”

Skye stood, making a space for Steve to come closer to the bed.  “You gave him a chance.  Showed him that there’s still good in him.  Cared.”  Steve looked down, about to object to what she was saying.  But when he thought about it, he supposed that was what he’d done.  Tony had said he’d been the one to get through to him, and he had.  It was more than that, though.  Despite his own panic over losing Sarah, he hadn’t flown off the handle.  He hadn’t lost his cool, his patience, his sense of what was right.  He hadn’t compromised himself, no matter how tempting it had been.  He’d come close and pulled himself back.  Maybe that hadn’t been the most important thing, but oddly enough, he was proud and relieved.

“Shouldn’t be surprised, I guess.  I mean you’re…  Well, you know what you are.”  She smiled.  “Sarah’s really lucky to have you for her father.”  Then she got awkward and embarrassed, so she leaned over Ward, grasping his hand again.  “Ward,” she said, squeezing his fingers and setting a hand on his forehead.  “Ward.  Captain Rogers is here.”  Steve tentatively came closer, standing near enough to the bed that Ward could see him.  His eyes were still shut, a bit sunken and ringed in purple.  Skye turned slightly more insistent, squeezing harder, brushing Ward’s hair back.  “Grant.”

Ward took a deeper breath, eyes fluttering open.  He gave a groan.  “Skye,” he managed.  It was hardly anything more than weak whimper.

She smiled and nodded.  “Captain Rogers is here, like you asked.”

Ward’s hazy eyes searched the shadows uselessly for a moment, so Steve stepped even closer so he could see him better.  “Agent Ward,” he greeted.

“Captain.”  Ward licked dry, chapped lips, and his eyes closed again.  “Did you… did you get her back?”

Steve nodded.  “Yes.”

Ward seemed relieved, although it was difficult to tell given how weak and limp he was.  He seemed to lose consciousness again, but he didn’t.  His eyes opened again to watery slits.  “Sorry,” he whispered.

“You did the right thing in the end,” Steve assured him.  It was hard, and part of him didn’t want to say it, but he did anyway.  “Thank you for saving my life.  And my daughter.”

Forgiveness wasn’t going to be easy.  Neither was recovery.  Still, Ward’s lips pulled into a weak smile.  “Bringing her… Bringing the baby out…  Helping May get her to you…  Only good thing – good thing I’ve ever done.”

“Maybe,” Steve said.  He set a hand to his shoulder.  “But it can be the first of many.”

That seemed to give Ward the comfort, the care and faith and belief in himself, that he wanted.  His grin grew bigger, softer.  Then he let himself fall back to sleep, and Steve felt sure he’d found just his answers.

* * *

The Avengers returned to Stark Tower, bruised and shaken but whole.  As a family.  A few short hours ago, that had seemed an impossible dream.  Yet it was happening, even if they were wholly rattled and scrambling to stay on top of an exploding situation.  Tony immediately instructed JARVIS to put the Tower on lockdown.  The AI was continually scanning for potential threats.  Across the world HYDRA was moving, a veritable army of hidden evil, and trying to collect themselves was all the team could do while the extent of the threat became clear.

That tenuous sense of peace and accomplishment Steve had had aboard the Bus was short-lived.  As he carried Sarah’s slumbering form into his bedroom and carefully laid her on his bed, he was back to living in a daze.  Shock and exhaustion and pain had made a fog in his head, a fog that on some level disturbed him but on others made him thankful that he wasn’t feeling anything too acutely or processing anything too deeply.  He grabbed the coverlet on the chair near the bed, unfolded it, and draped it over her.  As much as he wanted to collapse, he couldn’t.  Not with the storm raging outside the safety of the Tower.  He brushed the hair from her face, smiling fondly and battling his burning eyes anew, before gathering the ragged ends of his composure and stepping outside his bedroom.  He closed the door most of the way behind him.

Tony and Thor were waiting for him outside in the living room.  The Avengers had been quiet, each consumed by his or her own thoughts since leaving the Bus after it had touched down in LaGuardia.  It was evening now, sunlight bleeding across the sky as though the awful day was making a last-ditch effort to hurt and stain before fading completely.  Steve rubbed his aching eyes and limped toward them.  “Where are we?” he asked.

“Where do you want to start?” Tony replied quietly.  He held up a StarkPad.  “This is a list of the SHIELD installations we know are compromised.  It’s pretty much all of them.”  Steve grimaced and sighed, not reaching to take the pad from his friend.  “The agents who aren’t HYDRA and aren’t dead are going into hiding.  The Triskelion’s in shambles.  The Hub is under HYDRA control.  The Fridge was attacked.  We don’t know right now what was stolen, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say everything.  This is a huge mess, and with Fury gone, we’re dangling in the wind.”  He quirked a shadow of a smug smile.  “I’d say I told you so like a million times over, but that would make me a jerk.”

“Verily,” Thor said.

Steve didn’t want to think about this.  Where to send the team.  What to prioritize.  Should they retake the Fridge and prevent the countless dangerous items and people he knew were stored there from falling into HYDRA’s or AIM’s hands?  Or should they focus on the Hub, on restoring SHIELD’s intelligence and logistics network to better equip themselves to track this new threat worldwide?  Or try to find Hill?  Confirm what they’d heard about Fury?  He was dizzy thinking about it.  “How’s Pepper?” he asked instead.

“Sleeping.  Bruce gave her something, and JARVIS is monitoring her.”

“Should she so much as roll over, I will alert you, sir,” JARVIS assured calmly.

“Perhaps it will do us all some good to seek a moment of reprieve,” Thor offered, watching his friends worriedly.

“Can’t let them get more of an upper hand,” Steve said.  “We’re all the world has left to defend it.”

The door to his suite opened, and the other Avengers walked inside.  Clint looked as ragged as they all did.  His face was bruised and at one point his lower lip had been bleeding.  It looked sore and aggravated now, like he’d been worrying the cut with his teeth.  Natasha came with him, her face placid, but she couldn’t hide how worn she was from Steve or any of them.  And Bruce was calm but mostly because he was simply too exhausted to be anything else.  “Coulson called,” he declared.  “He’s got the Centipede cure out to everyone he trusts.”

Steve nodded.  “Good.”

“We also got in contact with Hill,” Clint said.  “She’s safe.  She was in transit from New York to DC when the attack went down.  They tried to bring down her quinjet, but, well…  She’s not Deputy Director of SHIELD for nothing.”

“Where is she?” Tony asked.

“She wouldn’t say,” Clint responded.  “Wasn’t sure the line was secure.  She said she’d contact us again as soon as she could.”

“What about Fury?” Steve asked.

Clint’s eyes darkened, and a look of loss and grief that was so rarely on his face appeared.  He shook his head.  Steve glanced at Natasha, but she was stony.  Holding herself together.  “What’s our next move?” she asked calmly.  Professionally.

They were looking to Steve, but he frankly didn’t know.  HYDRA had bred an army of enhanced soldiers and turn-coat agents, and he didn’t know how to defeat that.  He couldn’t think.  His head hurt.  His head _really_ hurt.

“Sir, incoming data from Miss Skye,” JARVIS announced.  “Shall I send it to your pad?”

Tony sighed, clearly uninterested in dealing with more crises.  “Yeah, go ahead.”  He lifted the device again and tapped across the touch screen. 

“Was this their endgame?” Natasha asked, looking to her teammates for their input.  “Taking down SHIELD?”

“You make it sound like that wasn’t much of an accomplishment,” Bruce said.

Natasha gave him a bit of a withering look, and Bruce predictably withered.  “That’s not what I meant.  Their Centipede soldiers were a problem, but that doesn’t sound like world-domination material.  And SHIELD’s resources were more useful intact than in shambles.”

“She’s right,” Clint said.  “This can’t be the whole story.  Maybe they took out SHIELD so they could make a bigger move.”

“What?” Thor asked, concerned.

Tony’s strangled whisper of “Oh, God” drew all of their attention.  He’d gone pale again, starkly white around the bruises and cuts on his face.  Steve was tired of seeing him like this.  That was all he could think in the seconds after his whimper until Tony looked up from his tablet.  “Skye found her.”

“Who?”  Thor’s voice was tight in apprehension and frustration.

“Amanda.  Mandy.  Whatever the hell her name is.  It’s…  God.”  Tony tapped his StarkPad with shaking fingers, and the TV screen behind them in the living room winked to life.  The data that Skye had sent him was all over it.  Steve recognized Mandy’s striking, flawless face in a profile picture, her dark hair and beautiful eyes.  And now that he knew, he could _see_ her in Sarah a little.  Mostly expressions.  The shape of her chin, maybe.  It made him sick to his stomach again.

Not as sick as he felt when Tony explained more, though.  “Ophelia Sarkissian, otherwise known as Viper.”

“Viper?” Clint said.  He, too, had blanched.  He looked worriedly at Natasha.

“You know of her?” Thor asked.

Clint clearly did, and not in a good way.  “Yeah, I’ve heard of her.  Assassin.  She showed up on the scene after the Chitauri invasion.”

“She’s been credited with some high-level killings, both of foreign officials and other assassins or terrorists,” Natasha added.  “We’ve both been sent to shut her down before.  Never even found her.”

Clint folded his arms over his chest.  “SHIELD’s been on her tail for the last couple of years.  She’s like a shadow, impossible to track.  Our reports didn’t even have a decent picture of her.”

“How much you want to bet that was HYDRA getting their hands into SHIELD’s intel?” Bruce muttered.

Steve shook his head, staring at the picture of Mandy and the long, _long_ list of murders, arsons, thefts, and acts of terrorism to which she was linked.  “I don’t understand,” he murmured, trying to be objective and to keep the revulsion from reaching his heart that someone this bad and violent and ruthless and _evil_ was Sarah’s mother.  “What does she have to do with HYDRA?”  Tony looked sympathetically at him but seemed reluctant to answer.  That more than anything spoke to how deeply disturbing the connection actually was.  Steve’s heart started to pound.  “Tony, what does she have to do with HYDRA?”

Tony cracked, like he just couldn’t keep it in.  “She claims, and I guess there’s some evidence for this, that she’s a descendant of the Red Skull.  Schmidt’s great granddaughter.”

The room was silent, and that statement, as softly spoken as it was, echoed like rolling thunder.  Steve found he couldn’t breathe.  They were all staring at him, watching him, trying to gauge how he would take this.  Take this awful news that his daughter was…  “No.”

Thor’s hand fell on his good shoulder, firm and supportive.  And the others came closer, realizing instantly what this meant.  What it meant to him.  What his enemies had done to him.  Steve squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to hold onto his composure.  He wasn’t going to break.  Not over this.  He swallowed again.  And again.  Finally the lump lodged in his throat loosened enough for him to speak.  Even then, his voice was a throaty murmur.  “Is there proof?”

Tony was watching him like he’d do anything to take this pain away.  “Yeah, there is, but not enough for this to be certain.  Or for it to be certain that she’s Sarah’s mother.  I mean, we need DNA or something.  It’s just her word, and she’s a damn liar – Steve.  Steve, wait.”

Steve didn’t wait.  He needed a minute, needed to get out.  The room was spinning, and if he didn’t get away for just a minute, he was going to faint or scream or collapse or completely _lose it_.  So he ignored Tony’s call and Clint’s plea and Thor reaching for him.  He limped back to his bedroom and pushed open the door.  In the long evening shadows, Sarah was still asleep.  Of course she would be.  He’d only been gone a few minutes.  Still, when he looked at her again, _she_ _seemed different._

_She’s a descendant of the Red Skull._

_HYDRA’s legacy._

Steve could hardly breathe.

_“We can make my grandfather’s vision a reality.”_

_No._   He snapped out of it.  _She’s my daughter._ HYDRA wasn’t going to take her and make her into anything she wasn’t, and she was _his_ daughter.  Captain America’s daughter.  Captain America’s…

Something caught his eye.  The coverlet had slipped down a bit, revealing Sarah’s wounded arm.  The bandage had come loose as well, probably jostled when he’d laid her in the bed, and he hadn’t noticed it until now.  Grotesque curiosity itched its way through him, making him take a few tentative steps toward his bed.  He squinted in confusion.  The top of the laceration on her arm was visible, and it was…  “Oh, my God,” he whispered.

It was almost _gone_.

Healed.

Steve’s eyes widened.  His heart skipped a beat.  And then he ran to get Bruce.

* * *

Over the next fifteen minutes, Bruce ran tests using samples from the now discarded bandage.  He ran them all multiple times.  They came back the same every time.

Sarah had the super soldier serum in her blood.

“How is this possible?” Steve asked, pacing Bruce’s lab and rattled to his core.  He didn’t know whether to be shaken or relieved or terrified.  He was all of them in mismatched, varying, and changing proportions.  _This can’t be._   “After three years, how–”

Bruce was frustrated and helpless.  He was glancing over his results on the large display embedded into the wall closest to them and the rest of the team.  “I don’t have answers, Steve,” he admitted quickly.  He glanced at Tony and Thor.  “I don’t know.  She has a lesser concentration of the serum in her blood cells than you do.  About 50% as much, but still it’s more than enough solid, irrefutable proof that she’s producing it.  Obviously those irregularities I spotted a few weeks ago weren’t a fluke.  The genetic material for the serum is expressing itself now.  I can’t tell you why or how.  I don’t know.”

Clint swore softly.  He grabbed Steve’s arm the next time he passed in front of him and made him stop.  “Easy, stay calm.”

“Calm?  For God’s sakes, you want me to be calm?  After all of this?”  Steve’s temper was frayed beyond recovery.  “What’s worse, finding out my daughter is the great-great-granddaughter of my worst enemy or finding out she actually has the very serum they _made_ her to get?  Huh?  You tell me!”

Clint shook his head against that tirade and just said it again.  “Easy, Cap.  Come on.  It’s alright.”

Thor looked confused and ill.  “What does this mean, Bruce?  Is it permanent?”

Bruce shrugged with an unspoken apology.  Not knowing the answer to something always bothered him.  Not having an explanation unnerved him.  However, this went well beyond that.  This was the well-being of a little girl they all loved like their own.  This was her future, her safety.  This would change her life.  The assumption under which they’d operated for three years, that Sarah hadn’t inherited the super soldier serum from Steve, was completely _wrong_.  This was extraordinary.  Incredible.  Disturbing.  _Terrifying._   “I would assume yes, but I would need to run more tests.  She _looks_ fine, Steve.  I’m sure she is.  This is amazing, that the serum could in effect lay dormant until now.  Maybe it was the stress of the situation.  Maybe it was all just a matter of time.  Maybe–”

Tony cut off Bruce’s frazzled rambling.  “Steve, it’s alright.  This is a good thing.  Now we know for sure.”  He gave a smile.  “Damn good thing I convinced you to keep her, huh?” he teased.

Steve huffed a weak laugh.  He leaned into one of the workbenches in Bruce’s lab, letting his good hand fall uselessly to his thigh with a soft slap.  He looked up to the ceiling, even more lost now than he’d felt before.  This was too much.  All of it.  HYDRA was back.  HYDRA had destroyed SHIELD.  The great-granddaughter of the Red Skull was Sarah’s mother.  And, as if that wasn’t enough to digest and accept, Sarah actually _did_ have the serum.  It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

Thor asked the question he couldn’t bear to think, let alone voice himself.  “When the scientists had Sarah in their grasp, did they discover this?”

The room went silent again.  There was no way to know.  Garrett had never said anything.  Neither had Sarkissian.  Would she have reduced Sarah to bait if she’d known Sarah had the serum?  Steve doubted it.  That suggested they didn’t know.  They probably hadn’t even checked.

It didn’t matter.  “Sir, you instructed me to monitor SHIELD frequencies for activity,” JARVIS said.  “There is a message coming through on every channel.”

“Busy tonight,” Tony grumbled irately.  “Get it on the screen, J.”

A second later, it appeared on the monitor they’d been studying.  It wasn’t a video or a picture.  It was just as it had been before, simple words embedded in a data stream.  A signal to HYDRA agents across the globe.  And once again, Steve’s blood turned to absolute ice.  “Take Captain America and his daughter,” Clint read slowly, his voice threadbare.  “Kill those who protect them.  Madame HYDRA.”

That was it.  The unrest that had been building in Steve’s mind snapped, and suddenly a singular thought surged forward.  _Go._ He was running out of the lab.

“Steve!  Where’re you – Steve!”

“Cap, wait!”

_“Steve!”_

They were following him.  He didn’t slow down, but he turned to face them, panic leaving him trembling.  “I have to go,” he said breathlessly.  “I have to go!”

“What?”

“No, Steve, let’s just–”

“Don’t you see?” he cried as he stopped in front of the elevator.  JARVIS was already summoning the lift, but waiting was excruciating torture.  “I have to run.  I have to get Sarah some place safe.  Hide somewhere.  Get away from this.  She’s coming, and she’ll find us, just like she said she would.  I have to get away right now.”

Clint’s face fractured in shock and horror.  “Steve, that’s not–”

Thor took his arm again and turned him to face them.  “This is not the answer.  _Running_ is not the answer!”

“And what is?” Steve gasped, pulling away.  “Staying here?  Letting HYDRA and whoever else _hurt_ all of you for my sake?  No.”  He shook his head, short of breath.  The tightness in his chest was awful.  Tenacious.  But he was more so.  “No, I can’t do that.  I can’t let someone else get hurt.  We’ll be a liability to you.  They’ll come here.  You know they will.  They found her once.  They’ll come again.  They’re coming now.”

Bruce shook his head.  “Then we’ll protect her.”

Steve wanted to believe that.  So desperately he did.  But they hadn’t protected her before.  None of them had.  Not Natasha and Clint.  Not Bruce and Thor.  Not Tony.  Not him.  And it wasn’t because they hadn’t tried.  They’d _trusted_ , let their identities and their location be known.  How many times had he gone out in public with Sarah?   How many times had the media taken pictures of them, pictures that had spread like wildfire?  How many times had things about him and his daughter flooded across the internet?  He’d practically broadcasted where he was, _who_ she was, just by being Captain America.  Garrett and Ward had waltzed right into their home.  Sarkissian had planted herself so innocently right in front of them because Tony had simply booked a birthday party!

“Stay here,” Bruce said more insistently, pulling him from his thoughts.  “We can protect her.”

The elevator arrived, the doors opening and staying parted for them while the tense, frightened moment dragged on and on.  “If they get a hold of her now, now that she has the serum…”  He couldn’t finish.  The thought was too awful.  If they hurt Sarah.  Or if they twisted her.  Turned her.  _Raised_ her to be their weapon.  Their legacy.  “No,” he said, mostly to his own thoughts.  “No, I have to do this.  I can’t endanger the team.  And I can’t endanger her.  All the evil in the world is going to be bearing down on us, and I can’t put that on you.  I can’t do it.  I have to get her out of here.”

They were ready to argue.  To object and tell him vehemently that _no_ he couldn’t do this and run away and _go into hiding_.  But they were shocked silent for a moment, and that was all it took for Tony to speak.  “He’s right,” he said softly.  His eyes were empty, like the realization had sucked him dry of any emotion.  The rest of the team stared at him.  Eventually Tony’s gaze hardened.  His voice was firmer.  “He’s right.”

“What about us?” Clint asked, a hard edge of denial in his tone.  “The whole damn world’s falling apart!  There’s a huge fight coming, and we need a leader.”

“I’ll lead,” Tony declared.  He held Steve’s eyes, his own steeped in cold determination.  “I’ll do it for now.  Sarah needs her father more than we need Captain America.”

And that was it.

They were moving quickly.  Tony was spouting orders like he’d been born to do it, commanding JARVIS to keep surveillance both on the street and in the air all around the Tower and the city.  If HYDRA had its hands in SHIELD, it knew everything there was to know about them.  And if there was HYDRA in local and federal law enforcement, this could become trickier and even more dangerous.  Clint was sent to gather up food and a first aid kit.  Unhappily he ran to do it.  Once they reached Steve’s suite, Bruce went quickly to pack a bag for Sarah.  Thor and Tony went with Steve into his bedroom.

Natasha was lying on the bed next to Sarah, who was still somehow fast asleep.  She’d stayed with her while they’d gone down to the lab.  She sat up instantly when they came in.  “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a bag in my closet,” Steve told Thor.  He ran to the bathroom to peel off the rest of his dirty uniform and under armor.  “Pack whatever you can fit.”  He moved like a machine, barely listening as Tony explained to Natasha what was happening.  He yanked his arm out of the sling; he couldn’t afford to be slowed now, even if it hurt.  Thor tossed a pair of jeans and a heather gray t-shirt at him.  He was methodical, the preciseness of military training guiding his hands as he washed the grime and blood away and did his best to look normal and inconspicuous.  He heard Tony softly say things like “they’re coming” and “there’s no choice” and “have to do this to protect her”.  _Have to protect her.  Have to run.  No choice.  Hide.  Lay low until HYDRA is gone.  Have to keep her safe._

_No choice._

He forced himself to stop limping when he left the bathroom.  Natasha appeared lost, flustered, _scared_ as he quietly ran out into the hallway and down to Sarah’s room.  Bruce had already gathered pajamas and clothes into an overnight bag.  Steve grabbed some of her stuffed animals and her old, worn snuggie.  One of her more beloved blankets.  And her special box.  That he flipped open and he took out his dog tags.  Staring at them for a moment, he swept his thumb over his name engraved on the silver plate.  _Steven G. Rogers._   He couldn’t be that man right now.  Not right now.  He couldn’t be who he had been anymore.  Maybe he never should have been.  Maybe he never should have tried.

He couldn’t be both Sarah’s father and Captain America.

He stuffed the dog tags into his pocket and took the bag Bruce wordlessly offered.  Back in his room, Thor had finished packing for him.  The bag was on the chair beside the bed, loaded with clothes and toiletries.  “Here,” the demigod softly said, hefting both it and taking Sarah’s bag from Steve.  Steve went to the bed.  Natasha was watching him with imploring eyes, helpless and breaking if he let himself see it.  He couldn’t manage a reassuring smile, couldn’t even really make himself look at her, as he scooped Sarah’s sleeping form into his arms.  The laceration was almost completely healed.  Seeing that renewed his determination.  He’d never run from a fight before, never left anyone else to bear his responsibilities, but he had to.  _I have to.  Have to hide her from them.  They can’t get her.  She can’t get her again.  No choice.  No choice._

He shushed Sarah as she stirred, tucking her head to his shoulder.  Natasha pressed the coverlet around Sarah’s tiny body, tucking it between her and Steve where she could.  Steve finally made himself meet her gaze.  She just stared at him.  He’d never seen so much vulnerability in her eyes, not even when she’d come to him in the hospital when he’d been hurt after bringing Sarah home from the helicarrier.  She turned away, leaving the bed to go grab his shield where it was propped beside his dresser.  She came back with it and offered it to him.  He shook his head.  “No, I can’t,” he said.  His voice was unrecognizable to him it was so rough with emotion.  There were the practical reasons.  It was too well known a symbol.  Too obvious.  But it was so much more than that.  HYDRA wanted Captain America and Captain America’s daughter.  He had to let it go.  He couldn’t be Captain America anymore.  Not now.

That vulnerability was unbearable.  That fear.  _“Having you go down a different road, one I can’t follow…  It scared me.”_   It scared him, too.  More than he could admit.  “I can’t,” he said again.  “I’m sorry.”  He didn’t know what he was apologizing for.

But she nodded, tucking his shield against herself, her arm in its straps.  He couldn’t manage a grin or a nod in return or anything, so he pivoted and rushed out of his room.  His suite.  _His room.  Sarah’s home_.  The nights he’d spent rocking her to sleep.  The place where she’d learned to sit, to giggle and smile, to walk and talk.  The place where she’d become the center of their family.  Their family.  He walked faster because if he slowed down, he knew he’d stop.

Out by the elevator, Tony was waiting.  Steve hadn’t even realized he’d left.  And Clint.  Clint had a bag that was loaded with supplies.  Food.  And a few guns and knives, in all likelihood.  He opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance.  “Sir, I am detecting three SHIELD quinjets and numerous Harrier jets approaching from the southwest.  I cannot be certain, but I believe they are on an intercept course.  They will be here in less than ten minutes.”

There was no time.  He had to go now, and they all knew it.

“We’ll fight ’em off,” Clint swore.  He grimaced, battling his emotions, before giving up and grabbing Steve and pulling him into a hug.  He kissed Sarah’s sleeping head.  “God, take care of her until we can–”

“I will, Clint,” Steve promised.

Bruce was next, wrapping Steve in a tight hug of his own.  He swept his hand down Sarah’s back.  “Be safe.  Both of you.”

“Thor, just take them with you to Asgard,” Clint demanded hoarsely.  “They’d be safe there!”

Thor’s eyes were filled with anger and grief.  Everyone was staring at him so hopefully.  “I do not think they would be,” he replied at last.  “Humans are not welcomed in my realm.  Since my mother’s death, there has been even less interest in protecting the lesser beings.  I fear you would not be allowed entrance.  It is against our laws and traditions!”

That didn’t satisfy Clint.  “You’re the prince!  Make new laws!”

Steve couldn’t ask that of Thor or anyone.  Thor seemed to realize he wouldn’t.  He looked frustrated and helpless.  “At least let us come with you,” he implored.  “One of us!”

Steve shook his head.  “It’s not right.  The world needs the Avengers.  And it’ll be hard enough for me to stay out of sight.  We’re all too well-known.”

Thor was clearly looking to argue more, his characteristic stubbornness about to rear its head, but he gave up without a fight.  His arms were strong, grasping Steve before Bruce had even let go.  “I will see what I can do to provide a safe haven for you.  In the meantime, Heimdall will watch over you, so you are not alone, no matter where you go.  And I will come to your side should you need it.”

“Where will you hide?” Bruce asked.

Steve released a shaking breath.  “I don’t know.  Some place away from the city.  Away from everyone.  Can’t risk–”

“Steve, you have to go,” Tony said.  He took the bags from Thor’s and Clint’s hands.  “You guys get ready.  If they think they’re coming to take Captain America or any of us, we’ll show them something different.  Gear up.”

Nobody moved just yet.  Thor whispered something in a language Steve didn’t understand, kissing the crown of Sarah’s head.  Steve turned to the elevator, which was open and waiting for him.  He didn’t know what else to say, his eyes quickly looking over them.  He knew he should have something more to tell them.  He was their captain, their leader.  Their friend and brother.  But his words failed him.  There was no time to remember the image, but he wanted to.  In case there was no coming back.  In case this was it.  His life, ending as it was again and changing into something else, right here and right now.  _There was no time._

Tony got into the elevator.  “Guys, seriously.  _Go._   We have a war to fight.”

The others reluctantly moved away.  But not Natasha.  She stared a moment longer, lingering as though she was physically unable to make her legs work and her mind think and her heart break.  Steve nodded at her, trying to tell her it was alright, before following Tony inside the lift.  When he looked back, Natasha was leaving.

But she stopped.  She whirled.  And she ran at him.  JARVIS stopped the elevator doors from closing as she charged inside, took Steve’s face between her hands, and kissed him.  Steve nearly jerked back in surprise before he realized what was happening, _nearly_ , but he didn’t.  Her lips were soft and sweet against his, chaste at first but then more insistent as he overcame his shock and kissed her back.  It was wonderful, glorious, a ray of heat that blasted through his chest and down into his heart and chased away the cold ache.  It was everything he’d wanted, and he hadn’t even known until then that he’d wanted it.  The first brush of something that had been growing but he hadn’t acknowledged.  So sweet.

Bittersweet.  It didn’t last, no matter how much he wanted it to.  Natasha had to pull away.  That vulnerability was gone.  Her eyes were confident again.  Trusting.  Teeming with faith in him.  She slipped her hand down Sarah’s back.  “I’ll keep your shield safe,” she promised, “until you come back.”  He nodded, grateful, fighting the burn of his eyes.  “And you keep her safe until we’re together again.”

Steve couldn’t do anything but nod again.  Then she was gone and the doors shut and JARVIS took them down.

Seconds passed.  Maybe even minutes.  He was lost to it.  Lost to Tony giving a weak joke about picking a heck of a time to finally put the moves on Black Widow and something more that was half relieved and half self-deprecating about him being so awesomely and extraordinary right all the time.  Lost to him relaying orders to JARVIS, something about hacking New York State’s DMV and erasing the registration on one of his SUVs.  Something about creating a secure channel between two StarkPhones.  Something about readying a new Iron Man suit and preparing for full security lockdown.  Other things.  He was lost, back in that moment with Natasha.  _Natasha kissed me.  Natasha._   All this time, right in front of him…  He hadn’t seen it.  The warmth was still there, but it was fading with the realization of what he was leaving behind.  He didn’t want to leave her.  He didn’t want to leave.  He didn’t want to go.

_There’s no choice.  I can’t let anyone else get hurt._

“I want to go with you,” Tony whispered.  Steve finally focused on him.  There were tears, thick in Tony’s brown eyes and thick in his voice.  “I should go with you.  I should.  If they find you…  How did it come to this?  How did it…”

The elevator dinged, and they were down in the garage.  Quickly, mechanically, they walked to one of the black SUVs, the one they’d taken to the zoo so many days before.  Tony put the bags in the trunk.  “How long, J?” he asked.

“Less than five minutes,” JARVIS responded.  Even he sounded tortured.

Tony opened the back door of the car for him, helping him get Sarah strapped into the car seat there.  Thankfully she stayed asleep; if she’d woken and started crying, both men knew they’d be unable to go through with this.  The soft thud of the car door closing echoed loudly, like thunder.

And now this was _truly_ it.  Tony fished in the pocket of his jeans.  He gave the keys to Steve and a StarkPhone.  “Untraceable.  You call if you need us.  And you call when you find some place safe to hide.”

“Okay.”

“Stay away from the major roadways.  No public transportation.  Get out of the city as fast as you can and then take 17 up north and across the state.  There are some real sticks out there, so you should be able to hide for a bit, but get out of the state.”

“Alright.”

“And lie.  I know it bothers your golden generation sensibilities, but lie your butt off.  You’re a terrible liar, so you’re going to have to try harder.”

“Tony…”

“We’re coming for you the minute this blows over.  You hear me?  The minute.  And don’t you worry about us here.  We can handle HYDRA.”  Tony reached into his other pocket and pulled out a thick envelope.  “This is ten grand.”  Steve’s eyes went wide.  “Best I could do with two seconds to get it ready.  Don’t blow through it, because I don’t have an easy way to get you more.”

Steve took the envelope.  “Tony–”

Tony grabbed him hard, hugging him harder and _harder_.  Steve hugged him back just as hard, shaking nearly as badly as he was.  “I can’t lose her.  I can’t lose you,” Tony groaned.  He was sobbing openly.  “Don’t let me lose you.  Please, Steve.  You’re like my brother, you know?  Don’t let me lose you.”

_You won’t._

But Steve never got the chance to say it.  “Sir,” JARVIS miserably began, “proximity alert.”

Tony yanked himself away and turned to run back to the elevator.  “Go!” he shouted. “Get out of here!”

Steve jumped across the hood to the driver’s side, flung open the door, and threw himself in.  He turned the car on and was speeding out of the garage a breath later.  Pulling out onto 42nd Street, he looked up and saw the jets streaking across the evening sky.  But he didn’t stop.  He couldn’t.  He had to trust the team to fight without him.  Trust his family to keep each other safe.  He had to run.  Hide for however long he needed to.  Leave them.  Lay down the shield.  Give up who he was.  Sacrifice what he needed.  Break his own heart.

He looked in the rearview mirror, saw Sarah’s beautiful face so peaceful with sleep and still somehow so innocent of all the evil in this world that would take her and hurt her and use her.  He had to do this for her.  He had to protect her, first and foremost.  Her life was what mattered.  He was her father.

He had to keep her safe.

_No choice._

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was part two. This is the worst cliff-hanger I have ever done :-). Sorry about that! Originally this story was supposed to be Steve/Sharon. That was six months ago, and clearly it didn't happen. Oh, well. Can't resist Romanogers. There's one more story in this series, which will finish it off with more Steve/Nat, lots more Steve and Tony friendship, and a surprise guest (I'm sure you guys noticed who!). I hope you all enjoyed reading this story. Thanks so much for all the comments and support. As always, I greatly appreciate it. And, as always, thanks to E, my beta-reader.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://thegraytigress.tumblr.com)!


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